The After Party
by Laury the Latrator
Summary: Pre-BA. I decided to turn my little one-shots into a series, each immediately following an episode. I may go back and fill in some gaps, but they will all read in order of appearance. May vary in length. Hope you enjoy them. Latest: 7x1
1. 1x5

Jones 1x5

The shattered fragments of the two-way mirror glinted tauntingly up at Goren as they reflected Eames exiting figure. He briefly caught one last glance at her exposed shoulder blades before she turned the corner and melded into the sea of office chaos that always followed a violent incarceration. Bobby took a few more deep breaths, looking around the now disarmingly calm interrogation room. The glass Talbott punched out would cost the city a pretty penny, he knew, and yet he also knew that wasn't what that unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach was stemming from. Goren found his keen mind trying exceedingly hard to focus only on the glittering remains rather than the swirling thoughts and memories currently surrounding him.

Deciding that staying in the oppressive silence would do more harm than good, he retraced his partner's earlier footsteps. Eyes automatically reaching for her tiny figure, he found her quickly pulling on her charcoal suit jacket, a barely noticeable shudder taking hold of her. Eames was so obviously trying to rid herself of the 'slime' feeling, as she had so eloquently put it. Another wave of guilt, so familiar now, assaulted Goren upon the sight. He had thrust her into a situation she had not felt comfortable in, dangling her as bait for the creep to make a move on. Being the gentleman he was, Goren felt ashamed at the thought of objectifying his partner so. Pursing his lips and giving himself a brief mental pep-talk, he strided over to her desk, taking the handbag she had been about to reach for before she could. Eames blinked up at him in startled surprise, wordlessly asking for a clue as to his next move.

"Come on, let's get an early dinner. Your pick, my treat?" He held out the purse to her, a clear out in case she felt it was too much to cope with. Alex smiled, looking relieved at the semblance of normality. She put her hand, the one that could at that very moment be taking back the handbag indignantly, on her hip instead.

"Why, Detective First Class Goren, could you possibly be asking me to ditch the paperwork and play hooky?" She teased lightly, already opening her desk drawer for the rest of her things. Goren smiled back, though his was more subdued as he continued his attempt to reclaim emotional control.

"There are dozens of perfectly good cops who can handle it for now. Anything we need to do can wait 'til tomorrow. And if Deakins has a fit, he can always blame me. He does anyway." He said offhandedly. Alex glanced back at him as she pulled out her gun and badge from her drawer and stuffed her two best friends into the handbag.

"Oh don't sound so anti-establishment," She snarked, causing Bobby's grin to widen and grow more genuine. Straightening up, she unconsciously pulled at her low v-neck top with her free hand. Goren's eyes flitted down of their own accord before hastily flying back up to her unsuspecting face. Continuing, she said "How about Mulberry's in Little Italy? They make my martinis _just_ like I like them!" Bobby's stomach did a little cartwheel at her inflection as she relished the memory of her favorite vodka martinis. Brushing it aside, they walked out of One PP together, heads held high, and Bobby's hand adding a gentle pressure to the small of her back...

~*~

"I still can't believe some of the things you said in there!" Alex laughed with a shake of her head, unaware of the thrill that her carefree voice had just sent up his spine. The atmosphere was so relaxing, add the martinis and scotch they'd been drinking and you could say the detectives were effectively loosened up after the tense interrogation. But somehow during the course of the conversation, they had ended up right smack-dab in the middle of that very same topic.

Alex was making light of the whole scene, as was her smooth, sarcastic, and totally Eames way, though Bobby couldn't help returning to the more... visceral emotions that had come bubbling to the surface. Watching Eames and Talbott flirting had been too... nauseating to watch, so he had focused his attention on Mrs. Talbott instead, resisting the urge to check out of the corner of his eye on the pair. He didn't like it. It was unethical to use a skilled female detective as cheese on their mousetrap. But it had been necessary. Eames had known it too, she had made some quip about how if it were a woman in there Goren would be 'laying on the charm' to 'catch her in the act'. Everything about their dialogue was fake. But somehow, Goren couldn't successfully convince all the scraps of his consciousness in every dark lonely recess of his mind. And the anger, and the envy, and the need to protect _his_ Eames from that low-life, murdering bastard who had no right, and so he had just pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until he had drove the desperate man to attacking his wife through the mirror, and the triumph, the crash of realization, the bitter victory of having and not having—

"The whole 'size 13 thing'? Now _that_," Alex said with enough vigor to pull Goren from his deep musings, "Was fantastic!" Bobby gave her a small thankful grin, mentally shaking himself from whatever mood had overtaken him.

"How so?" She gaped exaggeratedly at him, clearly having had one drink too many.

"The great Robert Goren, gentleman, first class, A+ in humility... making sex joke after sex joke and euphemism after euphemism? That is a sight many a woman would pay good money to see." Bobby's cheeks turned a flattering pink as he downed the rest of his scotch.

"Now I _know_ it's time to get you home." Eames (because calling her Alex in this instance would probably be enough to make him lose it) smiled slyly.

"And that's a line they'd kill for." She winked, and pulled out some cash to place on the table, Bobby being temporarily too stunned to protest.

**Mulberry Street Bar LLC was a shout out to Dick Wolf, as many Law and Order scenes have been shot there. And as always, nothing you can recognize as canon is mine.**

**I will finish my Psych fic, but I just needed to let some of my CI love be recognized! God I hope my friends don't see this...**


	2. 1x8

The Pardoner's Tale 1x8

"Hand me that wrench there, Bobby?"

"Sure thing man."

Lewis' Body shop was filled with the usual noises of two friends working hard on the prized mustang. For Goren, it was always a welcome relief to just occupy his mind with something other than Major Case. Around Lewis, he could just be Bobby, the same pal he'd been in high school, and reasonably undamaged compared to the adult version.

Lewis, the selfsame distraction, abruptly halted his mechanical fussing, causing his friend to pause as well. Closing the hood and propping his elbows on it, resting his head on his hands to complete the image, he eyed the larger man speculatively.

"Hey, do you think I could ask Detective Alex out?" Oh. Goren felt his brain seize up for a moment, resulting in a vacant stare that lasted several tedious seconds. The mechanic raised a brow, seeming to break the spell of immobility that had taken hold of the investigator. The windshield whippers were incredibly interesting all of a sudden.

"Well?" Lewis asked again, this time the hint of a smile playing across his lips. He was cataloguing every nervous gesture Bobby made in order to build a case against him.

"Uh... I guess you... always could." He responded, still fiddling with whatever bits of the car he could get a hold of. Glancing furtively up he countered with, "But why... why do you want to... ask her out?"

"A) She's hot." The side mirror squeaked as Bobby's fingers tightened around it. Lewis continued, feeling much more smug. "B) She likes cars." His jaw muscle flexed involuntarily. "And C) she's awesome." He cleared his throat, rolling his head in an effort to relieve the tension there, much to his friend's amusement.

"Uh, good!" Goren said with unbelievably false cheer. "Good, that's great man, go for it. But uh..." He hesitated, piquing Lewis' interest as to what excuse he would come up with. "She has a lot of baggage, so be careful with her."

"You seem very protective of her bud. You her body guard or something?" A playful grin from the only man enjoying this game.

"No, just her partner." The sudden change in tone (reminiscent of wistfulness) dampened Lewis' fun, turning his mischievousness to frustration. Straightening up, he fixed his old friend with an exasperated glare to rival Eames.

"Dude, c'mon!" Bobby too stood straight now, the difference in their heights diminished by the mustang creating distance between them. "You're totally macking on Alex!" Goren rolled his eyes, his whole body following it's movement to look away from Lewis and his impossible notions. For they were just that: impossible.

"You see us together for all of... 10 minutes... and here you are claiming I'm 'macking' on her?" He said incredulously. After a moment of sputtering and deciding what to say first, eventually, this won out, "And who even says 'macking' anymore? It's so dated, you-who-tries-to-be-hip!" Looking around Goren began to gather up his stuff in an effort to leave before things got any weirder. Lewis called to his retreating back as he made his way to the entrance, determined to get all the words out.

"Well if you insist you don't have any feelings for the lovely detective—"

"— Which I don't!"

"Then I guess I won't hold back!" The frustrated mechanic hollered to his bullheaded amigo. Goren waved a dismissive hand. Pursing his lips, he finished the tirade with words guarenteed to follow the troubled and confused detective home.

"And neither will anyone else, man!"


	3. 1x11

The Third Horseman 1x11

"You know what I've always found tricky?" Eames posed for her companion.

"What?" Goren answered promptly.

"It's gotten to the point where it's so hard to distinguish religion from insanity!"

The pair of detectives had made their way from the judge's house to the closest bar to make good Bobby's promise of that margarita. They now sat on the farthest barstools away from the packed late night crowd, situated in a dark corner to reflect on the case's finer moments. Goren shifted uncomfortably, which raised Alex's brow in surprise.

"You disagree." She stated in invitation. His agitation increased.

"Well... not so much disagree... I'm just not sure we should label all zealots as insane."

"This kid nearly jumped off a roof, Bobby! He murdered an innocent man 'cause he thought he was on 'a holy mission'!"

"I'm not endorsing him!" Goren objected, hands raised in protest. "I was just saying that there's a line, if a fine one, between those who follow some higher power and those who are mentally disturbed." He looked over at his partner again to see a strange unidentifiable look on her face. "What?"

"What made you stop going to church?" Eames asked him thoughtfully. Bobby was taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. That had been a difficult time in his life, one he did not wish to disclose to the longest partner he had had in a while.

"Personal reasons." He hedged. A note of frustration entered her expression now.

"How come you only let me in on your beliefs when I force you to?" She demanded, sounding much more forceful this time.

Concerned this was going into dangerous territory, Goren examined his drink as he answered "My feelings don't have any bearing on our cases." Something closed on Eames' face, and he could tell he had somehow said the wrong thing. But, thinking an apology could be taken as grounds to reopen the discussion, Bobby let it slide, instead watching the margarita quickly disappear through his partner's lips from the corner of his eye, the only way he'd ever admire her.


	4. 1x14

Homo Homini Lupis 1x14

Goren felt the stillness of his apartment like a shackle around his neck. Placing his keys on the table and dropping his briefcase where he stood, but refusing to shed his jacket, he stepped groggily further into the 'living' room. Finding his couch with ease despite the dark, he dropped down heavily to it with an exhausted groan. A hand reached up immediately to massage his tired eyes, outright refusing to work any longer.

This was not one of those cases detectives could not brush off with some laughter and a good bar. It was cases like these that slowly drove good people to the brink. A girl had been raped by a sadist all because of that useless vile thing called money. _But she got you... she got you..._

Goren shook his head, bounding to his feet and making it to his door in seconds.

He needed to walk.

~*~

Alex let her breath out in a huff. She mindlessly turned down the volume on the TV; it wasn't helping anyway. She curled her legs under her, hugging her knees and blowing a strand of hair from her face. She knew what she wanted and it sure didn't come from a late night infomercial.

"Eames? What's up?" Bobby's voice crackled through the phone, concern filling his words to the brim. Alex suddenly felt very foolish for calling, fingers worrying her nails.

"Nothing but my rent." She replied with a small chuckle. Only ambient noise filled the pause, tension in both listeners as they waited for the other.

"Sorry," She finally muttered in self-derivitive embarrassment. "I probably shouldn't have bothered you."

"It's okay, I'm not doing anything important anyway." He assured her quickly.

"Wandering?" Alex guessed succinctly. She could imagine him nodding before remembering there was no way for her to see him.

"Yep." Another stretch of silence. Alex twisted a lock of hair around her pinky. "Hey Eames?"

"Yeah?" She answered, cringing at the over-eager response.

"Can I drop by your place? I mean, if you're not busy. It's just I'm in the area and—"

"Sure Bobby." Alex said, a smile brushing her lips. Trust Goren to pick up on what she needed most after a long day. "I'll pour us some scotch, I should have some stashed away someplace."

"Good." He sighed in relief. There was a comfortable lull in the conversation, where Alex could just picture him making his way across the city streets, lanky legs, teddy bear face and all. A memory from earlier forced it's way to the front of her mind: Goren holding Maggie's tiny, sobbing form tight, enveloping her in the safety of his arms, reassuring her that _she_ was the strong one, that she survived despite it all...

The threat of tears, foreign for such a long time, now pressed at the corners of her eyes. Alex blinked them away, along with the oh so haunting image. Never let it be said that the detective ever envied a victim.

"Eames?" She took a deep breath at the sound of her partner's voice.

"Yeah, Goren?"

"I'm, uh, I'm here." He said hopefully.

"Oh." Alex blinked in surprise.

"I'll, uh... I'm gonna hang up now." He said awkwardly. She softened, finally standing up.

"Alright Bobby." She answered, a breathy chuckle accompanying her steps to the front door. "Alright."

**My first try at Eames' POV. I hope it wasn't too OOC. That one scene in the episode always breaks my heart, and I'm pretty sure Alex would have felt similarly.**


	5. 1x15

Semi-Professional 1x15

It shouldn't have bothered him. It really shouldn't 've.

She saw him as a friend. A brother-type figure. Someone completely platonic to pal around with. Her partner. Not anyone remotely—

Goren forced his thumb further into his forehead. He watched Eames continue to interrogate the innocent Judge Blakemore, standing in meditative silence alone in the observation room. She was quite the sight, towering intimidatingly over the distressed philanderer while still managing to look soft and beautiful. Goren doubted he'd ever been so infatuated with a—

The unfortunate digit was jammed even deeper into his skull in frustration. His thoughts were betraying him, as they often did when concerning Alex. His— dare he say it— romantic attraction, would only cause more harm than good.

_Stop it, you're making me hot._

He either groaned in exasperation or let out a moan of longing. He hoped it was the former because Bobby was reputed to be on the suave side. And sighing in need would definitely not help his case.

Did she even know what she did to him? Her teasing comments with their sexual undertones that could make him gape after her like a floundering fish. That lit some primal urge, if only for a second, that he had never quite achieved with other, more pliable women. Making him scramble to recapture his previous train of thought before she could turn around and catch him looking like an ignorant schoolboy.

_You underline the dirty parts?_

A grin sneaking to his face, yet refusing to give into the impulse to glance up. Watching her read the telling quotes surrounding Wakefield, head in hand, studying the quirks of her face and reading the emotions flitting over them. She was a book far more intriguing than any of Sabatelli's.

Goren snapped out of his memories and contemplations as Ron Carver stepped into the room he'd absently been staring at. He leaned in and spoke into Eames' ear. He could probably smell her hair if he wanted. _Lucky bastard_... Woah. That was a dangerous feeling. Bobby was jealous of a completely innocent gesture merely because it instigated closeness to... her.

He must had missed something, because Carver was escorting Judge Blakemore and his lawyer out the door. Eames stood, leaning back against the black table and surveying their exit with impassivity.

"Guess some unwitting judge'll be thanking their lucky stars once they take that Appellate seat." Her voice said through the PA system. Alex paused, her artfully crafted eyebrows scrunching together as she realized what she'd done. "Great. Now I'm talking to myself." She cast an eye about the room, as if to be certain she really was alone. "Wocka, wocka, wocka." She deadpanned. The corners of Goren's lips twitched into a smile at her ridiculous behavior.

_God she's amazing_. Wait... what?!


	6. 1x16

Phantom 1x16

He'd nearly made a mistake. He'd nearly gotten those two innocent kids killed. Him and his stupid mouth.

_Oh, of course! Of course you didn't break your vows! Of course you didn't sleep with Charlotte Fielding! Of course, my God..._

A much more subdued groan of frustration escaped this time, and Goren felt his partner's eyes dart towards him. He ignored her, turning his head to stare unseeingly out the car window. His attention was wholly consumed with the unrelenting loop in his mind.

_Only two shells. One for each child, he was planning to walk away..._

He closed his eyes, lids shut tight in his concentration, willing himself to move on to a less-painful topic.

_One thing this line of work teaches us is that guys will do anything for love..._

He could've pounded his head against the glass repeatedly if he thought he'd get away with it. His brain really wasn't doing him any favors today. Had he had to look right at her when he said that? Whatever 'this' was, he certainly wasn't getting any better at hiding it. If anything it was growing worse.

_Charlotte Fielding's lucky. She'll never know what a worm her white knight turned out to be..._

"Something you wanna share with the rest of the class?" Her wry voice, this time not a figment of his subconscious, cut across his memories. Bobby turned his head to her in surprise. Her profile was lit from behind by the afternoon sun, the effect enhanced more than anything by the way it was shuttered every few seconds by the Manhattan buildings. The corner of her lips were lifted in her usual smirk, her eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. The honey that was her hair fell over her distinctive and beautiful cheekbone, splashing the creamy tones with color. He blinked and swallowed.

"No, just thinking." Her face moved to meet his gaze, brows quirked in that accepting disbelief he'd come to...

Dammit. Definitely not getting easier.


	7. 1x20

Badge 1x20

"You ok?" Eames asked out of the blue as they walked to the black van from the school. Goren choose to remain silent for a little while longer.

What would she do, he wondered, if he happened to say no? Would they go out for drinks, chat about everything and nothing and give each other peace that neither will acknowledge? Would she try to reaffirm his faith in the uniform, faith in humanity that has crumbled just a bit more today? Would she wrap her tiny arms around his much larger frame to give his mind comfort where tall, leggy brunettes like Denise had failed? Or would she simply find herself out of her depth, the pair of so called friends never having successfully delved beneath the surface of anything insightful? Feed him a useless platitude and leave him to sort it out for himself? Cast him aside, grasping for scraps of her affection that despite their scarcity brighten his being so completely?

He decided he'd rather not find out.

"Yeah." Goren answered her eventually. "It's a good thing. She's going where she belongs." He hoped she didn't hear the uncertainty in his conviction. But he knew Eames was an exemplary detective and, more rarely, had spent enough time with him to know when he was lying, so he really shouldn't have been surprised.

"So tell me, the ridiculous accent, was that just for me, or did you have some equally ridiculous psychological bull reasoning behind it?" Goren miraculously felt a chuckle blossoming out of his chest and filling the cold night air. She looked over at him, and he could see the proud smile on her face. And as they opened the car doors and prepared for the drive back, he wondered, not for the first time, how she could always know exactly what to do.

Because somehow, in the incredible Alexandra Eames way, she had made it better.

**I couldn't help laughing whenever I heard Bobby using that fake accent, and I know he used it to come off like a douche, but I think he did it just to make Alex smile. That's what I'm sticking to at least.**


	8. 2x3

Anti-Thesus 2x3

Eames gripped the wheel tightly, the strain of the last few days filling every muscle with nervous energy. She glanced over at her parter for what had to be the hundredth time that drive. Goren's face remained fixated on the innards of his leather binder. Most likely he was going over every scrap of information they had on Wallace (AKA Hitchens) or reviewing every move they'd made for some way it could have ended differently. Either way, for the moment his obsessive tendencies were coming in very handy. It had been sunset when they left the upscale hideaway, and now the inky blues of night were taking hold of the sky. It was only when they pulled to a stop that Goren raised his head. He took one look at their destination before swiveling to show off to Alex his perplexed frown.

"We're not at One PP." He stated.

"No." She answered tersely, hands still curled around the steering wheel. He blinked, the turning cogs in his brain clearly visible.

"Why not?"

"No arrest, no immediate paperwork." The lines of his face hardened briefly before he continued in his inquiry.

"Then I should be going home."

"Nope."

"Any particular reason?" Eames took a deep breath in, and let it out with her answer in tow.

"You're staying with me tonight." His expression changed rapidly from confusion to surprise, to unease, to resolute.

"I don't think so."

"Too bad." She replied. Now he was definitely frustrated.

"Eames give me the keys." He reached for them but Alex held the car key up to her mouth.

"Don't make me swallow them Bobby!" She threatened. Instantly his motion ceased. With a resigned sigh, he withdrew his arm and rolled his eyes at her antics.

"So what will we be doing?" The insane notion of calmly saying 'each other' flitted to mind.

"Your choice: romantic comedy or gore-fest." His brow furrowed.

"And those are my only—"

"Yes." Another sigh.

"Gore-fest please."

~*~

"Are we planning on eating at all tonight?" Bobby asked as the credits of Saw II rolled into view. Alex pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"That depends on what you can cook, now doesn't it?" Happiness pooled in her belly as a warm smile grew over his features. It was the first genuine smile since that emotional interrogation. Once Alex realized what she had just thought, it was instantly pushed away.

"I have a feeling it will depend more on what's in your fridge." He countered, already on his feet and making his way out the room.

Smirk in place, she called to his retreating back "Good luck! The only functional part of my kitchen is the take-out drawer!" Once he was out of sight, her expression fell into that of emotional pain.

That woman had given him hell. He'd been floored when Nicole Wallace had showed him his social security number on the notepad. Goren might not have been aware, but she'd managed to catch most of the... juicy bits. Thankfully Deakins and Carver had been busy with the Habeas Corpus and therefore ignorant of the personal tragedies Wallace had uncovered. It had been both a punch in the gut and enthralling to hear details of her partner's life. She'd known his mother was mentally ill, but not much more than that. Hearing it from the smug bitch's mouth... well, if it had been her in that room, Nicole would be long gone in a very different way.

And then there was the issue of Nicole herself. She was the kind of criminal that captivated Goren. She was, and Alex would never admit she saw it this way, him on another path. His equal but opposite. His Professor Moriarty. Smart, funny, charming, sparkling... Those were his exact words. This woman who knew his history, who knew how he thought and why, who had caught his eye even upon their first meeting. Alex couldn't help feeling jealous of this cold-hearted killer being so intensely focused on by Robert Goren, who would only show interest in her over a dead body.

"I think I can make some good Chinese with what's in here." Alex started and looked up at her partner. He wordlessly held up the cordless phone and a menu, a small smirk tilting his lips. She couldn't help it; Alex started to laugh.

"Goren the Genius conquered by my kitchen." Her mirth trickled off as she realized the terrible double meaning her words could have. Looking apologetically up at him, she was staggered by the deep sadness in his eyes.

"Next time." He vowed softly, to which thought she wasn't sure. But Eames knew one thing.

Watson may have received some of Holmes' love, but he had to know there would always be that place in the detective's heart for his Moriarty.

**Ah Nicole Wallace, the bitch who consumed Goren for so long. There's a great song called I Hate the Way by Polly Scattergood which is perfect for B/N from Nicole's perspective. I highly recommend it.**


	9. 2x7

Tomorrow 2x7

"Is it wrong that I want ice cream?" Eames asked Goren across their desk, gazing vacantly towards the door. Goren looked up in surprise. Both detectives had been engrossed with writing up the incident report of earlier, when Hannah'd screamed Sarah's guilt to the entire department. There had been a serious mood over their heads, which was why he was thoroughly thrown off guard by her strange inquiry.

"Uh... no?" He replied uncertainly. Eames tapped her finger on her lip, still staring with unfocused eyes.

"I'm just so..." She huffed in frustration, dropping her head onto her palm. "Restless."

Not really sure what had overtaken his partner, Goren offered cautiously "You could get some, or we could, y'know, afterwards..." She flashed him a grateful smile.

"Aw, and here I was hoping you'd suggest we sneak out." Alex teased lightly, returning her pen to the paper. Slightly relieved to hear the normal Eames, and more than a little that she wanted him to come along, he let an indulgent grin cross his face.

~*~

Goren poked at his vanilla with his ridiculously tiny pink plastic spoon absently. He and his partner were sitting in a booth at a typical ice cream parlor, having sat in silence for the past 10 minutes. He still wasn't sure why she had craved the tasty, if whimsical, treat. _Probably a female thing_, he thought with a shudder. Eames was digging into cookies-n-cream with nearly horrific delight. She'd mocked him for ordering such a boring flavor, but he didn't mind. He always found her taunting humor... well... charming.

"I'm pretty sure it's not gonna bite back, Bobby." Example number 238. He looked up to see Alex pointing her equally silly mini-spoon at his untouched ice cream. He obligingly scooped a large portion into his mouth. She snickered.

"What?" He asked in utter confusion. Alex placed her free hand over her mouth to try and control her laughter.

"You uh—" She broke off for a moment to better compose herself to answer. She cleared her throat in an attempt to sober herself. "You have a large glob on your cheek." Before Goren could react, she had reached over and wiped it onto her finger. And as if that wasn't enough to send him into shock, Eames then stuck the digit in her mouth and sucked it clean. The innocent gesture shot his eyebrows into his hair. Alex didn't even seem to see him gaping at her, instead observing a group of little girls across the room.

"Do you want kids?" Bobby blinked.

"You offering?" He blurted out nonplussed. Eames snorted.

"Down boy." Her gaze at the 5 or 6 year olds became more wistful. "Just wondering. So do you think you'll have children someday?" Bobby dropped his eyes to the table and stuck another spoonful into his mouth to stall.

He'd always considered having kids as being risky for him. A family history of mental disease, not just his mother being affected, had been enough to make Goren stomp on any dreams of that sort. And, even if miraculously the child was free of the family curse, he'd always doubted his ability to be a good parent. It wasn't as if he'd had fantastic role models after all. Then, as if he didn't have enough reason to be concerned, there was Goren's job, one of the only things that focused his over-zealous mind.

Shifting in his seat, he decided to go with a partial truth. "Not really, I doubt any woman could stand me long enough to actually want to reproduce." Alex reluctantly tore her eyes from the happy little girls to look at the much less happy (yet at times equally energetic) detective across from her. It felt almost like she was appraising his answer.

"There's always adoption." She replied quietly, taking another bite without breaking their eye contact. Bobby felt his cheeks grow warm. Of course she knew. Of course she understood his unease and his fears. It was Eames.

Before the lull could become any more awkward, she continued. "You were great with that little girl, the one we made lunch for." Alex complemented, this time eyes cast downward. "'Nibble on some niblets'? She thought you were absolutely the funniest thing." Ah, that had been a nice moment. Fixing a meal with Eames for a little child? That fantasy would rival some of their married undercover operations in his mind for a long time now.

"But then you're always good with kids." She added offhand. For what was certainly not the first time that day, Goren looked back at her in total surprise.

"You think so?" He asked, intrigued. Alex nodded vigorously back at him, brows drawn together in the need to convince him.

"Definitely! Remember Robbie? The genius who really wasn't? You connected with him, you were able to see what no one else could! Or um... what's her name... the little girl whose mother, Ms. Dawson, was taken down by Jack Crawley. You got her to talk about what happened when the social worker could only get her name! Or—"

"Were you planning on listing every child I've talked to over the last few years?" Bobby interrupted, bewildered and in amazement that she felt so strongly about this. She let out a short laugh and brushed her hair from her face.

"If I had to." Alex insisted, sounding a little baffled about it herself. Goren, ice cream pretty much forgotten by now, propped his chin onto his hand, studying her with a phantom of a smile taking his lips. It was her turn to blush under scrutiny. "What?" She demanded defensively.

"What about you?" He asked/wondered aloud. "Do you think you're ever gonna have a son or daughter?" Eames' face became entirely devoid of emotion for a few seconds before she seemed to snap herself out of it. She dug into her cookies-n-cream with new energy.

"Well I'm no Benjamin Button, am I?" She snarked with a shrug. Her movements slowed, spoon almost to her mouth before she stopped altogether. "Besides," Eames started softly, "I'm not sure cops make the best parents." With both detectives' moods turned somber, they silently agreed the conversation was over. They would retreat to their corners, hopes neither could afford hidden away in the dark. Both realized it was a topic neither enjoyed dwelling on, and so there would not be anymore talk of future offspring for a while.

But then, they'd given each other a lot to think about in the meantime.


	10. 2x12

Suite Sorrow 2x12

_Move along, move along, nothing to see here_, Detective Eames thought derisively to herself as she started directing the officers still in the room. They obeyed, taking Julie into custody and clearing the room, but not before throwing the backroom prying looks. Julie was still screaming insults at her father, now lying deceased in the back, as they escorted her out and down the hall. That took care of most of the unwanted guests, but it wasn't done yet.

Eames swiftly halted the CSU team at the door, telling them "The guy's not getting any deader. You can wait 'til I give you the ok, got it?" Many of the group were attempting to get past and get a peek at the scene behind her. _Everyone wants to see 'Goren the Wackjob' going off the deep end_, she reasoned as the sound of someone hitting a wall with his fist caught her attention. One of the men raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief, but she didn't even blink. Reluctantly the team turned around and filed down the hallway to the room where the rest of the officers were staying. Leaving Eames free to take care of the problem. She locked the door, slipping the key into her pocket, and made her way to the other room where her partner was breaking down.

When she found him, Goren was standing near the wall, facing away from the body, and nursing his knuckles. He was still agitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She couldn't see his face, but Eames guessed it would be full of regret or anger. Steeling herself from whatever he would do to make her leave, she broke his spell.

"I'll get some ice." Alex barely caught his head snapping around to gape at her before she was out the door and striding to the ice bucket, ready to defend her partner from his demons.

~*~

Why was she here? Why did she _have_ to be here! He needed to be alone, to refocus, to regain that fragile little thing called control. What he did not need was his partner, and not just any partner, Eames, witnessing him in his torment. Goren had no idea how much his partner knew or inferred about his childhood, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. Her pity would be the last push over the edge.

His weary wonderings were cut short by the reappearance of Eames carrying ice in a cloth napkin. Crossing the room, she held the ice tenderly to his bruised hand. It was enough to pause the the vicious thoughts that had been running through his head. Sparing a distasteful glance for the corpse on the floor, she placed her free hand on his arm and pulled him gently into the main area of the suite. It amazed Goren how such a little thing could be so warm even through his sleeve. It felt like her touch was branding him. And yet he was disappointed when they reached their destination, the exquisite couch in the lounge, and their only connection was the impromptu ice pack.

"You're angry I stayed." Eames guessed in her blunt way. It wasn't really a question, but he answered anyway.

"Partly." Goren kept his eyes on their hands, as he was sure did she. So close together yet never touching...

"So? Talk about it, or keep this superficial thing going?" That was his Eames, always knowing not to pour salt on the wound. She was giving him the lead, the power to say no, the choice. He swallowed, still not looking up, afraid of what he'd see.

"Just... Let's just... sit." He felt her nod next to him, and her shifting. He was taken aback when Alex's head came to rest on his shoulder. Not sure what would be an appropriate response, Bobby gingerly lay his chin on her remarkably soft hair.

They remained ensconced like that for a while, in content and cuddly silence, only breaking apart when someone pounded on the front door and Deakins' voice could be heard, "Hey! Eames! Goren! These guys have to get that body to the morgue!"


	11. 2x13

See Me 2x13

It was only on his way back from the Carmel Ridge Center that the phone finally rang. Goren had been wondering how long it would take her. There was always the chance it was Deakins or Carver of course, demanding to know why he had skipped out so early. But if he knew Alexandra Eames, as he liked to delude himself he did, then he was sure she had fielded any probing questions about him. Because that was the kind of caring person she was.

Flipping it open, Bobby spoke into the cell. "Hey."

"Hey." Her response was immediate and without too much false cheer. Goren kept silent, waiting for her to take the reigns of the conversation. It took several minutes before she could work up the courage to ask "How's your mother doing?" Ah, normally this personal an inquiry would leave him scrambling away from the intimacy, but Goren had been prepared for this gut-wrenching ordeal.

"Not terrible. She wants to know why I spend so much time at work."

"And what did you tell her?" Alex asked, sounding innocently curious.

Feeling too tired to censor himself, Bobby replied tonelessly "That I have the best partner in the world."

"Aww—"

"—And that she and I spend all our time having sex on the captain's desk." He could picture Alex rolling her eyes in perfect clarity.

"Cute." She replied, just as toneless. Goren smiled, a remarkable feat considering the case they just closed. Talking to Eames often had that affect on him. "I just got out of One PP," She informed him. "Can I come over?" The happiness fell from his face like a waterfall.

"No." He answered, soft and sad. Goren was in no emotional condition to deal with socializing, even with his partner. "Sorry, I—"

"It's ok Bobby." Her understanding response felt like a knife of regret twisting in his gut. "I'll see you tomorrow," Alex continued after a moment. "Make sure you get some sleep, god knows you need it." The tiniest of a loving smile graced Bobby's lips.

"Alright Eames. Tomorrow."


	12. 2x14

Probability 2x14

Goren spent 10 more minutes watching Wally Stevens sit in an empty room. Eames should know. She timed him.

When he finally did emerge from the observation room, his expression was stoic. He moved slowly, plopping onto his chair with little care. Eames was already busy researching for another case, one for Detective Helen Merconi. The red head with the pointy nose, though no one ever mentioned that last characteristic out loud. Goren opened his leather binder, sifting through his papers and not looking up. Work passed like that for nearly half an hour.

"Hey Eames?" He finally said, releasing the tension like shooting a rubber band. She met his eyes. Her fingers stilled on her keyboard as their gaze solidified into a connection she couldn't break.

"Yeah?" Another stretch of silence.

"I'm not him." Breath seemed to flee her lungs.

Is that what he was afraid of? That she thought he was some sort of evil genius? No. More like he was afraid she believed he was crazy. Alex knew instinctively that had to be it. Her last words to him as she left the dark observation room. _I'm sure he'd like a pen pal._ Did he think that was what she meant? That they were alike in that they were different. Not normal. Normal being the well adjusted prom queen, she supposed. Oh if he only knew.

Knew that she had said the last statement out of fear. The fear that someday he would come to his senses. That he would realize his partner wasn't close to being as brilliant as he was. Goren deserved someone who could fly along with him over the heads of the mere mortals, where Eames knew she would always reside. And maybe if he had a friend in the same league, albeit due to mental defect, that it would somehow pacify him. And he'd be content to stay with the springboard that was Alex, who was happy to have some part of him at least to call her own.

But she didn't dare enlighten him.

"I know."

**Everyone always plays up Goren's fear of being left behind, so I decided to delve into Alex's insecurities. Hope people find it believable.**

**Wow, three consecutive mini post-eps right off the bat. I'm impressed!**


	13. 2x17

Cold Comfort 2x17

_The disease is inherited. Nick could pass it to his kids. I can't imagine any woman having children under those circumstances!_

Well hadn't this been a lovely case. And a lovely pronouncement from his partner to match.

Goren doubted she saw the resemblances between Nick Durning's situation and himself. It wasn't as if Goren suffered from schizophrenia. It was merely like a shadow, the threat following him everywhere, or a vulture, ready to descend at a moment of weakness. A disease, an inherited disease, that logic told him could capture his child and drag them away into the darkness. Genetic Russian Roulette.

Who would want a child like that?

Certainly not a whole and healthy woman. Not someone kind and caring. Not someone funny and charming.

And definitely not a prom queen.


	14. 2x20

Blink 2x20

It's funny how a random phrase or sentence can strike a cord with you.

_She's the reason I get outta bed in the morning..._

He'd had to raise his head at that point. That sentiment. He felt so... accustomed to it somehow. It resonated within him. Like he'd thought it a thousand mornings before.

When Robert would open his eyes, staring at the same grey ceiling he'd been trying not to see all throughout his restless night, now lit by the first rays of light through the halfheartedly closed curtains. Looking blankly as the harshly bland tones of his bedroom began to reassert themselves from the darkness of another 8 hours wasted. Finding his limbs surprisingly uncooperative as his determination to sit up were close to nonexistent. Weighing the satisfaction of a good puzzle against the unrelenting weariness now infused in his bones.

How it was only her face, smile unimaginably bright against his shadows, that drove him to move.

_She believes in you, that's important._

It was everything. She was everything. Her sarcasm, her expressions, her personality, her ideas, her friendship, her support... her everything. Important didn't come close.

_She's my prayer warrior._

Yeah. That worked.

**Hope you guys liked it, I was going for more poetic rather than plot here. I've been working on something long and plotish for 308. I'm actually considering making it a separate oneshot.**

**The insomnia details are from my personal experience, feel free to mock me for it's bleakness. You have no idea what I think of in the middle of the night having a manic episode :P**

**PS It's fanfiction... I'm boring.**


	15. 3x1

Undaunted Mettle 3x1

When she had first started showing, Goren did a double take.

It had been easy to deduce of course. He was a first-rate detective. And she was pregnant.

Eames was pregnant. That hurt. She hadn't even told him she was in any serious relationship, let alone willing to have a child. Bobby briefly wondered if she knew, before realizing how idiotic an idea she was unaware there was a tiny person growing inside her.

Here he was thinking ridiculous and impossible thoughts about the two of them outside of work and there _she_ was snarfing down granola bars and yogurt at an alarming rate. How unfair.

When Eames finally pulled him aside after work to inform him about becoming a surrogate for her sister, he hadn't been able to hide his relief. Luckily, she had assumed he was happy to find out he wasn't crazy or imaging things. Things had gotten better from there, he was certainly in a better mood. That is, until Goren's darker side finally took hold of him when he was alone:

_Will it hurt as much the next time?_


	16. 3x3

The Gift 3x3

_True love. Probably his only redeeming quality._

There were a lot of things Goren found hard to understand. How he managed to actually not let someone down from time to time was one. Another was how something that was supposed to be pure and beautiful drove people to dark and terrible things. Love. Cases involving love always hit close to home for the detectives. For anyone. Because everyone knows what love can do to a person.

And no one knows it better than those who live without it.

Goren sat at his desk, not bothering to appear interested in the papers in front of him, tapping a pen against the table rhythmically and staring into space. Thinking, that was what they paid him to do after all. Philosophizing was like running on the treadmill for his brain. At least that's what he would say in his defense to the Captain if it came to it.

His meditations were interrupted when Eames hurriedly stood and rushed to the ladies' room. The ever-pleasant sounds of vomiting could be heard to anyone who cared to listen. Pregnancy seemed a killer.

Goren found himself once again going over in his mind what her maternity leave would mean. First she'd be removed from the field, left behind at their desk in One PP, their only interactions concerning rotting corpses or financial statements. He would have a new partner, someone who wasn't Eames, and everyone involved knew what that meant.

_I pity the fool._

Then she'd be gone, whisked away by her own selflessness. Trapped in a land of hospital beds and knitting needles. Where he would never be.

_You love her?_

_We don't do very well without each other._

It was an answer Goren could understand.

**Happy SAD everybody! I posted this early since I'll be at a party later today and won't make my usual nightly quota. Plus, it seemed appropriate.**


	17. 3x5

Pravda 3x5

Eames felt fat, useless, and alone. And people thought pregnancy was a beautiful thing.

Goren was dashing about after criminals with his new partner. Temporary new partner that is. The young, red-headed, skinny, and quick new temporary partner. And so far the most Bobby'd said to let on that he missed her (or even perfered her to the newer model) was "You see what you miss not working Vice?"

As for Eames herself, the most exciting portion of her new job was ferrying reports back and forth. The rest was sitting on her ass typing or, if she was lucky, reading. She was currently between those high risk duties, resting in the bland office chair in the equally bland conference room. Alex let the memories of great leaps of logic flow back. The time before this ball and chain called surrogacy. No, now she was reduced to just adding her two cents in whenever she could. The strip club thing, that was the height of her intellectual input. Once again she had doubts, far too late to stop anything, about her commitment to her sister's child.

In the middle of long lonely nights, hands on her bulging stomach, warm with the throb of life, Alex would have to repeat her mantra. _Not my child... not my child_. She was wasting nine months of her life for the not-her child. Eames closed her eyes in agony. Why did she do this to herself? Her sister. Damn her sister... and damn her love for her sister.

"Hey Eames," Her eyes snapped open at the familiar voice. Goren was poking his head through the door, looking concerned. "You okay?" Alex suddenly became aware that her hands were clasping her stomach. She realized the image her body language and pained face would give, and felt accordingly guilty.

"Yeah Bobby, just tired." She lied easily. Goren's eyes darted over her figure, probably searching for tells, before looking over his shoulder. Eames followed his gaze, and was disheartened to see it fell upon the lovely new Detective Bishop. However, without looking up (had they gotten to the point where they were telepathic? was she being paranoid?) Bishop nodded. Taking his cue, Goren slid into the room and sat in the chair opposite her, eyes focusing on his hands now laced on the table. Surprised, but not sure how to react, Alex remained silent, though she carefully adjusted her body to convey her openness to him.

"How are you really doing? Health-wise?" Deciding to neglect the emotional upheaval she was experiencing, she responded semi-honestly.

"Aside from my joints aching and morning sickness acting up, I could take you in a fight." He smiled at her placatingly, not bothering to call her bluff.

"And the work's ok?"

"It's just typing and walking, Bobby." Alex said in exasperation. "It's not exactly—" She cut herself off. It was better not to unleash her anger on him. Instead she dragged her eyes away, her gaze falling on the dutiful redhead typing in the distance. She gave a tight smile. "You two are playing nice, I'm impressed." Goren shifted in his seat, apparently uncomfortable discussing his new partner with her. Must feel like cheating.

"She's alright. I don't think she appreciates my style very much." Her grin grew more confident.

"As I remember your technique takes some getting used to. I learned to like it, she will too." His head lifted, finally meeting her eyes. He cocked his head to the side as he would an intriguing suspect. Unsure as to what she'd said that had captured his attention so, Eames waved a hand at him. "Hello? Mind using words to get your point across to us inferior life forms?"

"How did I manage to get you as a partner?" Bobby asked, sounding in utter wonderment.

It was probably all the hormones, but something in the way he said it made something twist inside her. Eames leaned forward in her seat, bracing her arms against the table top. She knew her expression must have been intense because Goren sat up straighter and his hands were released. Now she didn't feel fat or useless or alone. She felt... what?

"The same way I got you, Robert Goren." She wanted to tell him she wasn't special. But it was easier said than done. He seemed to be under the belief she was some sort of miracle, though naturally Eames knew that wasn't true. But how could she deny him?

"Deakins." She finished, whatever unsolvable emotion her voice had carried now gone. Bobby searched her face for several seconds more before apparently giving up. Standing, he hurried around the table to help her to her feet. They walked/wobbled out the door, meeting Bishop halfway.

"If you two are done," She began in an odd inflection, making Alex think of all the possibilities of her, Bobby, and a table, "We just got a call about an undercover cop killing. Four victims." Goren was instantly whisked away by circumstance. Resolving to put off her leave until after this last case (though she hoped she'd be able to use that excuse a few more times), Eames pondered over why circumstance seemed to only drive people apart.


	18. 3x10

F.P.S. 3x10

Seeing Eames, that was the first priority. Thank god for Bishop. But calling? Please! The need to see her again was consuming, and therefore causing his driving to become more chaotic. It was a desperate feeling, one Goren wasn't very familiar with.

_Panic is a primitive emotion. That's how he felt without his partner._

One week? Two? How long had it been since he'd seen her last? With her delicate condition too... he was getting jitters. Anyone would think he was the father, except for the fact he'd made no effort to stay in touch with her since her first day out of One PP. Goren had a feeling he was leaning too far in the "distant" end of the clinginess spectrum. Keeping a check on his interactions with her was getting increasingly stressful. Hopefully the actual birth would help matters.

It was at this point in his internal dialogue that he pulled into the hospital. Goren leapt from the car and raced through the corridors, nearly mowing down several nurses and orderlies in his eagerness. Eames probably shouldn't have texted the room number if she expected him to behave himself. He screeched to a halt outside her door, and attempted to walk in as if he had not just beaten the land speed record to reach his completely platonic partner.

Thankfully, everyone was cooing over the baby rather than staring at his embarrassing entrance. The group was huddled around the foot of the bed, Eames' sister at the center holding the tiny bundle for all to see. The adults were comprised of an older couple, Eames' parents most likely, the sister, and a man fawning over the sister and baby, the husband. Alex however lay tiredly in the bed, barely making an effort to join the celebration.

"Oh Liz, he's gorgeous." Her husband breathed, kissing her cheek absently, eyes focused solely on his new son. Goren brushed away his discomfort at the beautiful scene; he had to be here for his partner. Yet he made no move to cross the threshold.

"He'll grow up with everything," The matriarch enthused brightly, "A loving mother and father, a dedicated aunt," She gestured to her daughter, who Goren watched give a shaky and obviously fake smile. Her mother plowed on, too wrapped up in her joy to notice Alex's pain. "And Johnny and I to spoil him rotten!" Her husband laughed good-naturedly, drawing her closer with an arm around her shoulders. Alex's eyes began searching for anything other than the stifling happiness in the room, finally finding Goren's unmistakable large frame.

"Goren!" She exclaimed in thinly veiled relief. The collective attention shifted to the door, making him squirm slightly. Alex sat up straighter on her mound of pillows, beckoning him impatiently with her hand. He cautiously stepped over to the bed, the end away from the throng of well-wishers.

"How are you feeling, Eames?" Goren asked sincerely. She rolled her eyes with a tired smile.

"Like a passed a seven and a half pound ham through my—"

"No visuals necessary!" He interrupted in terror, the perfect image of a deer caught in headlights. Her family snickered behind him.

"Here, Bobby," He turned around, surprised Eames' sister knew his first name. Liz walked up to him, cradling the new arrival soundly. "Look at him." She instructed, turning the baby so his face was displayed with pride. Goren felt a wave of longing at the sight. He was beautiful, only enhanced by so much of Alex's features on the tiny child. When he glanced at the original, he was shocked by the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

_It's about yearning._

Tearing his gaze to the new mother's face, he said "I actually have some things to go over with Eames. About the case. If that's alright."

"Oh of course, we understand." Johnny said, already leading his wife to the door. "Our Alex's career is her first priority. Come on Mark! Let's leave these kids alone." Mark, the husband hung back as Liz stepped closer to his sister-in-law. Alex shook her head.

"No, no, you're his mother, you keep him." Liz flashed her a grateful smile, joining the rest of the Eames clan as they proceeded out and down the hall. The sounds of Liz's praise could still be heard drifting through the halls despite the closed door. His partner sniffed, shifting on the bed a little.

"So," She asked, composing herself with another sniffle. "What did you need help on?"

"Bishop and I wrapped that case up earlier." Goren admitted. "I just thought you could use some rest."

"I can handle my own family, Bobby." Eames snapped. A moment later her annoyance faded and she muttered an apology with a grimace, swatting away a sweaty lock. Taking a closer look, the detective was astounded her family hadn't noticed how depressed and weary Alex was. Blinding hope and joy, he supposed. Bobby came nearer, absently taking her hand. He felt her stiffen but plowed ahead anyway.

"It's alright, Eames. You just gave birth, you just gave away your son... you're allowed to be angry." He saw her eyes close, and her mouth forming words over and over again. They looked like '_Not my son'._

"Don't analyze me detective." She whispered, still resolutely keeping her lids shut in a visible struggle to keep from sobbing. "You should go." He hesitated.

"Alex," Her grip tightened around his fingers. "I'm your partner," Her lips began repeating the word silently. "I'm not leaving you now, not when you need someone." Goren really hoped he didn't sound as pathetic as he thought he did. No way of telling though, she was being unusually quiet.

Eames' face finally broke, tears running down her flushed cheeks. Her gasping was audible but not loud, though she placed her free hand over her mouth to keep her sorrow in anyway. Uncertain and uncomfortable, and desperately afraid of doing the wrong thing, Goren tried to let go of her to give her space, but she retained her hold on his hand, pulling him closer in fact to cry into his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her, he gripped her tightly to ease her tremors.

She was speaking into his coat, the muffled words becoming garbled but still miserably clear. "Hollow... I'm so empty... Cold... Dead..." over and over again in hysteria. Bobby grit his teeth to prevent joining in her misery.

"You're not... you're not hollow..."

"I am! I am! I am..."

"No Eames, you're full. Full and so painfully alive."

**My take on Alex' Post-Pardem Depression, I apologize for the angst.**


	19. 3x12

Unrequited 3x12

The newly reunited duo watched as the murderous dreamers were escorted to the waiting squad car. It had been both a tricky and relatively simple case. Simple in that the motivations had been easy enough to spot; upon their first meeting with the happy widow the first instinct was she'd had her husband killed, which had ended up being right. Of course untangling who killed who wasn't the easiest task in the world.

Goren was discreetly observing his partner's profile, taking in every detail. It was as if he'd been starved for the sight. He pondered how best to phrase his next question, the one that had been plaguing him the entire case. He would be kicking himself if he got it wrong. Since her return, Bobby had _literally_ been dancing. To ruin that lighter than air feeling would be tragic.

It was about 10 minutes later, when they were walking side by side down the street towards their (unbelievably lucky) parking spot, that he finally posed his concern.

"How are things with this... this, uh, Terry person?" Eames smirked with a sour scoff.

"You'd have to ask Mrs. Terry." He winced in sympathy.

"Ouch."

"Yeah." She laughed derisively at herself. "I just with I had some idea as to _why_ I attract so many losers." Thankfully they were almost to the car, and so Eames had little time to think over his next barely audible words.

"Not always. For my sake at least."


	20. 3x13

Pas de Deux 3x13

_Another day, another scheme._ Eames took a long sip of her coffee, smiling at the wry internal remark. She was proud of the case they had just closed. It had been daunting at first, cases involving a homicidal maniac strapping live bombs to people tended to be that way, but the work they'd put into it had saved a woman's life and sent the man behind it to a safe place. They should be proud. And the way the duo had trapped Donny? She snorted on her way back from the vending machine. It was funny how everyone underestimated her. Bobby might be the evil mastermind but people should know by now Alex was always good for the ride.

Of course there had been one aspect Eames hadn't enjoyed all that much. Keeping an eye on Goren as he danced with the suspect. She'd known her partner was charming, he'd often utilized this trait with informants, but seeing him interact with a woman like he would on a pick up? He'd probably bushed her envious looks away as just good ol' Eames watching her partner's back. Or maybe she hadn't even registered to him, lost in his own little world. If that weren't enough, the way he had described it later to Carver and Deakins, well... something in his voice had irked her. Like she could picture the two of them, under different circumstances, enjoying that cup of coffee in a cozy little nook. And the image hadn't sat well in her stomach.

Alex rounded the corner to the bullpen with a frown, until she looked up that is, and her jaw dropped in delighted surprise. A box of donuts had appeared on her desk, Goren already finishing one and watching her approach from his seat nonchalantly.

"Oh Goren! You know I _can't_ eat these!" Her exasperated words were undercut by the wishful look in her eyes.

"Come on Eames, you deserve it." His gentle coaxing showed he clearly saw her true colors.

"No, I have to keep up my self-control if I'm ever gonna get my figure back." She told them both firmly, sinking into her chair with her gaze still glued to the confection.

"Don't be ridiculous, you look fine."

"Well if I was going for 'fine' that'd be great then." Bobby rolled his eyes, not understanding how women could be so stubborn about certain things.

"Okay, if you're sure, I guess I'll just have to eat them all."

"Don't you dare Robert Goren. Don't you dare." Alex demanded, pointing her pen at him threateningly. He just reached over and took another out of the box, one glazed in sugar and littered with empty calories. He took a luxurious bite, making a small murmur of contentment. Alex couldn't contain her moan. It had been days since her last skittle... The donut was almost to his mouth before she quickly conceded. "Alright, alright, stop torturing me!" Goren straightened up, taking a normal bite this time, smug as his partner gave in to temptation. Munching happily, she smiled mischievously at him.

"Expect payback, Bobby. Expect payback."


	21. 3x17

Conscience 3x17

_Everything okay?_

It wasn't the first time Goren hated his job. It was a firsthand look at humanity. To shed light on the darkest dredges of society and the perversions of the psyche.

Here was a man who calculatingly cut down his wife, watching her descent into madness alongside her child. Ferrel had no compassion for this woman he had once loved. All to gain access to millions of dollars. To make it even more sickening, he had stayed by her bedside, brushing her hair, giving her baths, making her comfortable while slowly bleeding her dry. For six years.

He was ruthless, murdering Dr. Ford whose only goal had been furthering the treatment of the comatose. Out of animalistic panic at the remote possibility of a cure. Panic that had probably showed when he was alone with her, every time her lifeless eyes had swiveled to him.

And after everything his first concern had been begging for forgiveness, not from the justice system, from his wife.

It was Goren's duty to force Ferrel into enough emotional distress that he confessed. The way that best fit his pathology was incriminating evidence from his victim. And so the ruse had begun.

He recognized, hearing her son's flat acceptance that his mother was, and would forever be, insensible, that he had given them false hope. Her family, these people who had cared for her alongside that monster, who had always had the best intentions at heart, now resolved to kill her. As a final act of kindness. Because they understood, now more than ever, that despite whatever her darting eyes might suggest, she had always been dead.

And they forgave him.

_I wonder. I really wonder._


	22. 4x1

Semi-Detached 4x1

Nelda Carlson, the sweet nurse who was an open book. She felt so much emotion, and in her own way, she let those emotions be known. She had cared. It had felt like sunshine in a sea of harsh rain and acerbic wit.

_Wow, no one's ever uh... that's really nice of you to do, thank you._

He had known it was the obsession of a deranged mind. He had known her affection was only the transference of real love for her ex-husband to a more receiving target.

And he had also known that had been two sided.

_I wish I could call her Nellie and evoke the feelings that she has when she hears you say it._

So accustomed to being detached. Because it was Eames, not Alex, and Goren, not Robert, and so it would be Nelda, not Nellie.

But it wasn't even that, was it?

_Robert please! How can you be so cruel?_

_Don't you care about me at all, I know you do, I saw it._

The looming threat of revelation, of discovery. Fear of intimacy and terror of solitude. The measured tones when they spoke to each other. The focus on only the facts, on only the case and never the way her hair fell or her occasional chuckle or the way her eyes lit up when she had pieced something together.

Always and never.

_I didn't mean for you to see it._

~*~

_The tape of the nurse. What d'ya think?_

Stalling, because this was one topic she desperately didn't need to dwell on.

_Of her?_

The suspect. Ms Carlson, who with a few well placed words had attempted to sow seeds of doubt in their minds. Who had, in one conversation, gotten Goren to open up about something his partner of four, five years still didn't know much about.

Who called him Robert in that soft-spoken and enticing voice.

_Of him. A little personal?_

That had to be understatement of the year. He would always get attached to these people because it would always be his job to get inside their heads. And if someone like Nelda tried to return the favor, who bonded with him because he was there, then shit would really hit the fan. Because feelings weren't his forte and they certainly weren't Eames'.

Though she longed they were so she could help pick up the pieces of his heart after the inevitable crash and burn.

_He was just playing her._

If Deakins wouldn't mention the lack of conviction in her voice, then neither would she.

_You pinning her?_

_Well she's very... empathetic._

So much like him. Kind and lost but surrounded by those who couldn't help. Alex who had been running from any actual connection for more years than she could count. And she couldn't remember how to stop, so the jokes and the evasions pilled up until no one would ever be able to climb to her rescue. Even if they wanted to.

_You gave her a lot to be empathetic about._

Because, Eames reasoned to herself, if he never gave any indication he wanted her in his life, than why should she try to force her way in?

And yet... It didn't stop the hurt.

_This woman's got it bad for you._

And dammit, so did she...

~*~

Alex— No, Eames— was waiting for him, after all the officers had taken their directions and Nelda Carlson's cries were indistinguishable from the whirling whispers in his mind. She gently took his arm, guiding him out of the apartment to give Barry privacy to deal with the crushing truth that her obsession with him had caused a man's death.

They did not head back to the station, both knowing it wouldn't be enough time to rebuild the wall of professionalism around him. The idea of pitying stares following him around the pen was repulsive enough for the both of them. Instead, he let her lead him to a nearby dreary-looking greasy spoon.

Goren pretended to munch on his burger while Eames pushed her limp salad around with her fork. Neither did a very good job of falsifying conversation. Finally, she gave up, propping her elbows on the table and leaning forward to look him dead in the eye.

"Bobby," He briefly felt the impulse to correct the use of his first name, because he was sure by now that had to be the secret of his control. Her expression was difficult to read: there was a sadness in her eyes, though for whom he couldn't determine, and he was sure the tightness around her thin mouth was resolve, though why was as well unknown.

"Don't lose yourself in there." Goren blinked, brain too muddled by emotions to understand what the odd command referred to. Sensing his mystification, she went on. "When you delve into the minds of all these psychopaths, be careful." He wondered, not for the first time, if his partner believed him insane or incapable. He would get worked up, tell her ever bit of useless shit he'd been defending himself with for over 40 years, and let her know he could take offense like any able-minded (if not brilliant) person could. He'd tell her that now was not the best time to fuck with him, and she could take whatever feelings of sympathy or anxiety she had about him and go shove it all into a request for a new partner.

That is until Eames completed her thought.

"Just promise me not to get lost."


	23. 4x2

Posthumous Collection 4x2

Goren had slipped away after the arraignment, disentangling himself from lawyers and plea bargains to reminisce. He was hiding in the evidence lockup, lost in his own little world. Of course that wasn't his fault.

He was looking at Alex.

Well, the beginning sketch of Alex made by Jerry that is. It was very well done. He'd managed to capture how her hair fell over her eye and framed her face, and the small tugging of a smile she'd worn for the sting. It made Goren feel a little lighter that it was nothing like the wry grins she occasionally flashed him. This one was entirely fake, only going through the motions and playing her part right.

He wondered what the world saw when they looked at her. Was it this sort of charade 24/7? Did she keep her extracurricular activities superficial, a mere stress release? Or was it Goren getting the cold shoulder? Did he only imagine she shone brightly around him? Was the honesty in her playful humor actually a front to keep him from her true self? Could Eames possibly be more than the immensity he thought he saw in her?

The slice of light in her deep brown eyes caught his attention once more. It brought his mind back to their gentle flirting. It had been agreed upon beforehand to push Jerry to anger, and yet he couldn't stop hoping her reactions had been real. The way she brought her head down with a shy smile when he called her beautiful... it was an image that could consume him if he wasn't careful.

How he'd told her about Rudolf Bilarsky's show in Brooklyn, it had all felt so natural. Like they were in the ME's and he was describing the properties of some unknown sticky substance or telling her about the quirky fact straight cross-dressers were usually masochists. But this hadn't been Goren and Eames, the crime fighting duo with complementary skills. This was Bobby and Alex, a man coming across a lovely woman and chatting her up. A fantasy. Because they weren't just another couple and they never would be.

He set the unfinished portrait back on it's appropriate shelf. Another unusually humane piece that would never see the recognition it deserved. Goren forced himself to return to the hustle and bustle of the squad room. He sat at his desk, only looking up when he noticed her walking past towards Deakin's office. She grinned at him, looking like she was genuinely glad to see him before she was forced to disappear for a while.

And once again he had to bite back the urge to do something drastic and damning that could ruin all chance of peace.

Like ask her to an art exhibit.


	24. 4x3

Want 4x3

"Eames! Eames! Wait!" Alex turned in surprise to see her partner running like a madman to reach her. She closed her car door with a slam, leaning over her hood and propping herself up, her expression impatient. Goren rested his hands on his knees, doubling over to catch his breath. It looked like he had run down the stairs after she let the elevator doors closed. Apparently he hadn't got the 'back off' message.

"In case you didn't notice, Bobby, I was kinda going home right about now." She pointed out as he finally straightened up. He looked slightly hurt by her harsh tone, but not nearly enough to make her feel guilty.

"I just... I don't want you to be angry at me... for what I did with Tagman." Alex sighed, realizing that tonight confrontation would be inevitable.

Knowing she had to say it, but really resenting it, she set him up with "What makes you think I'm angry." He started to fidget, waving his arms and looking at the hood of her car.

"You haven't said anything... not directly relating to the case, and even that's been, well... scarce. And... I know you didn't think he was worth... going to bat for. But Eames... you have to know... I did it to save a life that otherwise—"

"Goren!" She interrupted, gritting her teeth and eyes shining in rage. He shifted in response to take a defensive pose. "I'm not some heartless bitch, no matter what anyone thinks!" Goren opened his mouth but she cut across his well-meaning disagreement before he could get a word out. "I heard Tagman's confession, I know he's sick, alright! He didn't deserve to die. You were right as always. Goren the fucking messiah got it again!" Alex, too furious at the world to be embarrassed by her words, pulled the door open violently and slid into her seat. He bent down to speak into the passenger window (which being her luck was already rolled down).

"Is that what this is about?" He asked incredulously, "You're upset that I got the case right?"

"No," She snarled at him. "I've learned to accept that I don't wear the thinking cap in our 'relationship'." His face contorted to angry confusion and reproach but she plowed on before he could deny it. "What bothers me is that you don't _care_ about anything other than saving the world! Did you even think about the consequences of your insubordination in there?" At his silence, Eames turned the ignition key. Goren let go of his side of the car, stepping back only a foot. Before pulling out, she hesitated. Leaning over the gearshift so he'd be able to hear her, she said stiffly "It only takes one mistake. Next time might not be over your job."

Seeing he understood her message, Eames began the long lonely drive home, wondering how a single case could go from talking about their imaginary sex life to fighting over cannibals.

**I realized how much more BAshippy the fourth season was than the previous ones. As you can see from my recent entries my take on the change is that Alex has stopped running from her feelings long enough to recognize them. Good work there Eames, it only took you four years. Kudos.**


	25. 4x4

Great Barrier 4x4

They were sitting in the empty interrogation room, the black table between them. There was no one behind the mirror today, and no Goren next to her. Nicole Wallace looked smugly back at Alex.

"Aw... little Bobby run home to his dear mommy? Just us girls?" She crowed, a malicious smile glinting on her face.

"Looks like." Eames replied, refusing to be baited. Wallace tilted her head in imitation of the legendary 'man with a broken neck'.

"Want to swap stories, gossip like all empty headed women do?"

"Just like how all little girls flirt with their daddies." Unbelievably Wallace's grin only grew at the provocation.

"Someone's been taking notes." She pointed out, getting slowly to her feet. The foe circled the furniture like a feral cat. Eames matched her movements, keeping the table between them at all times. "Tell me, why are you here? Miss me that much?"

"You need to stop."

"What? Hurting your precious partner?" Nicole asked innocently. The detective's fists clenched, her emotions seeming closer to the surface. Wallace eyed them in interest. "But that's not the real reason, is it Alexandra?"

"Don't call me that."

"What, your full name? Doesn't Bobby use your first name? At all?"

"Once." The words didn't feel under her control anymore. Is this how Goren always felt?

"Has he ever held your hand?"

"No. Not as ourselves anyway."

"No... But he's held mine." Things were beginning a terrifying downward spiral.

"Don't flatter yourself, Nicole." Her voice was shaking. Why was she reacting like this?

"Oh aren't you clever, detective." She said flatly, though her cunning spite was still quite clear. "Using his exact words to get at me. But you must admit... we do have a certain connection. Don't you agree, Alexandra?" Wallace drew closer, and Eames let her, a feeling of ominous anticipation building in her stomach. "Do you ever look at him and wonder what it would take to get him to care about you?" They stood only a few inches apart now, speaking in only whispers. "Maybe a robbery?"

"No." Alex denied softly.

"Or a couple dozen killings?"

"No!"

"Then you'd be just like me and then he might love you."

"_No!_" She shouted, wrenching herself back and stumbling to the wall. Nicole followed her, still resolutely speaking behind her.

"The loyal sidekick pinning after the super hero, watching as he casts his love to anyone with a sick mind! How do you do it Alexandra? How do you sit back and watch him slowly suck your hopes dry!"

"Leave us alone!" Eames lashed out, spinning around and striking wildly. Nicole barely bat an eyelash, grabbing her wrists with impossible speed.

Their faces were intimidatingly close, and Wallace breathed out "Wanting, watching, waiting... Doesn't butter your parsnips, does it detective?" And Alex was thrown to the floor, falling, falling into the black abyss...

~*~

She sat up abruptly in bed, a light coat of sweat covering her. Eames looked around her dark empty room, disoriented and frightened. Asleep, she'd been asleep in her own home. It was safe. There hadn't been any interrogation. It'd been a dream. Breathing grew easier as she repeated these calming truths to herself. Just a bad nightmare.

Dead. Nicole was dead, and she would never come back. Damn Bobby's never ending obsession, it was keeping _her_ up now!

Bobby. Becoming more aware as the madness faded, Alex found herself reaching for her cell phone. _No_. She stopped herself. Calling Goren wouldn't solve anything. She reluctantly placed it back onto the bedside table, and laid back on to her pillow. If she told him she had a nightmare about Nicole Wallace tormenting her about their relationship, the man'd go running fast as he could in the other direction. Not before getting her committed of course.

This was ridiculous. She'd never been afraid of Wallace, so why was she having dreams about her now? Alex forced her eyes closed, banishing any thought of resisting the claim of sleep. No need to be silly. It was just shadows in the dark.

Shadow puppetry of the mind.


	26. 4x8

Silver Lining 4x8

_Wesley is only into thing. He's like my partner, who wants to be left alone to do what he's good at: catching bad guys. It's the same with Wesley!_

Her ringing endorsement was brought to Goren's mind as they rode back to New York. It was the middle of the night and the drive ahead of them was long. Eames was at the wheel, as per usual, and Bobby was not sleeping, also as usual. Their silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't enjoyable either. He didn't quite know how to address the issue without sounding insecure. Not that he wasn't insecure, he just doubted his neediness would make himself appear any better in her eyes.

Was he like Wesley? Goren hoped not. He knew he could become what most people considered obsessed, but he wasn't like that all the time, right? He didn't always want to be left alone. He'd told Nicole not to count him out yet when it came to having a kid, though that had been mostly out of spite. Being a workaholic had never bothered him before, but now there was another part of the equation, one variable that was crucial.

Bobby'd always thought his partner was above judging him. Was he wrong? On the stake out when he'd been working through the night rather than sleeping, had Eames considered him weird? She couldn't know of course that working had merely been the perfect distraction.

Alex yawned next to him, and he noticed immediately how she was beginning to weave slightly in her drowsy condition.

"Uh... Eames?" She nodded, regaining control of the car now her eyes were open again. "You look tired. Should I take over?"

"God no, I hope to make it back to the city in one piece. I just need some coffee."

"You sure? It's pretty late."

"Yeah, look!" A gas station with a neon sign reading COFFE with one lonely flickering E was drawing closer, and Eames changed lanes to pull in. "It has to be fate." She said with mocking conviction. She got out, leaving Bobby to mull things over and create a plan of attack.

A couple minutes later, he could see a much livelier Alex approaching the car, taking sips from a steaming cup. Building resolution, Goren placed his hand over the gearshift as she hopped into her seat.

"There, now I could run the Indie 500." She proclaimed happily, taking another long draft as she turned the ignition. Alex's hand reached absently to put it into drive, but jumped away when it connected with Goren's. She looked at him, puzzled at the serious expression he wore.

Instead of the well-thought out monologue he'd concocted, what ended up coming out was simply, "I don't want to be alone." So much for not sounding desperate. Eames blinked rapidly, her lips parting as she tried to think of a response. She looked a little frightened, and he realized with horror what his actions might be interpreted as. He hastened to add "I do like catching bad guys but that isn't everything. You— I'm not—"

"It's ok Goren," She assured him, a subdued smile on her understanding face, "I know. You're not Wesley, not really."

"Good." He sighed, slumping a little more in his seat. Alex, with an expression he didn't feel up to analyzing, started the second part of their ride home as soon as his hand was safely off the shift.

Physical contact, such a messy business.


	27. 4x13

Stress Position 4x13

Goren was alive! He had talked down three guards, saved Logan and his girlfriend, and it was fantastic! Alex felt giddy, and witty, and lighter than air. The unnamed prisoners were getting much needed food and water, wrapped in layers of the blankets they'd been denied. The citizens turned sadists were being arrested and charged with what they deserved.

And Goren was alive!

Carver was charged with overseeing the writs of Habeas Corpus being fulfilled, leaving the detectives alone to watch over the guards' bookings. Observing her partner, as she couldn't help doing every few minutes (he was really alive!), she noted his somber mood. Not bothering to stop herself (damnit, he was alive!), Eames reached over and hugged his arm to her side. Goren looked down in surprise, but she kept her face hidden by her hat and hair. If he asked, which he probably wouldn't, she could say it was the cold that drove her to the physical contact, rather than thankfulness he was safe (but he was... really, _really_ alive!).

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence until Alex finally asked the inevitable "You okay?" She could feel his controlled tensing and un-tensing through his sleeve.

"Yeah." He eventually responded, his agitation evident in his disjointed thoughts. "Just, uh... lot's of hurt people here. The, uh, the guards who, who violated them... repeatedly. It doesn't seem, uh, w-worth it." Eames instinctively tightened her grip. Figures he'd be focusing on the negative stuff.

"Yes, but they're alive." She said, eyes alighting on the line of tortured prisoners now being cared for by the medical personnel. Alex found herself rubbing his arm lightly. And, because she was so grateful she couldn't help herself, she added, "Everyone got out alive." Goren gave her the ghost of an amused smile and a shrug.

"Well, except Taylor Kenna."

Huff. "Killjoy."

**This is a warning. I might be adding a post ep for 312, in which case the order might change and I don't know what will happen to your lovely reviews. Hopefully you all have good reason to have faith in my ability to keep my thoughts in order...**


	28. 4x15

Death Roe 4x15

Goren looked up from the files at the sound of a kick reverberating down the hall. Concerned, he stood and made his way from the conference room to where the noise had originated. When he finally rounded the last corner, Eames was leaning against the now thoroughly in it's place vending machine. It was easy to see his partner was distressed.

Of course, now that he thought about it, Bobby probably should have been more worried when she hadn't come back from her breather 20 minutes ago. The pair had been working for hours (long after most of MCS' detectives had gone home) to unearth concrete evidence of Mrs. Mailer's long standing sexual abuse from her father. Carver had said it would add to his charges and further prove his motive before giving them a cheery wave and running home to his wife. They'd been poring over statements from neighbors and friends attesting to the man's aggressiveness and her erratic behavior. Eventually Eames had jumped to her feet, muttered about getting some air, and bolted. Goren's initial interest passed and he'd been reabsorbed in the documentation of the little girl's trauma.

Seeing her in this state reminded him, and he felt a tickle of guilt in the back of his mind. Sweeping his eyes over her unsettled figure, Goren sauntered over to her warily. Her head jerked up when she noticed his movements. Alex gave him an embarrassed smile, gesturing over her shoulder at the candy machine.

"It wouldn't give me my skittles." She offered lamely, letting her hair conceal her face. He nodded slowly.

"Right, and we all know that's a viciously punishable offense." Eames rolled her eyes, and a little of the tension seemed to fall from her shoulders. Noting this as a good sign, Goren took his position leaning on the opposite wall directly in front of her. He remained silent, waiting for her to collect her thoughts and make the first move. They waited several minutes, until she could finally get out her objections.

"It's shit!" was her first coherent sentence. "How could no one see the bastard was using her as his own living sex doll! And those people that just watched and did nothing—" She cut herself off with a guttural noise of frustration, smacking her hand hard against the side of the already abused snack dispenser. Goren remained in contemplation of her as she took steadying breaths.

The anger she was expressing wasn't just coming from horror of the chef's monstrous actions (though it would certainly be enough to warrant this response on it's own). Somewhere in her mind Eames was blaming herself for something, guilt mingling with the fury. Why she had this violent self-reproach wasn't clear yet, but he planned to find out.

"What's bothering you?" He asked succinctly. Alex sent him a warning glare and wheeled to face the machine. Goren tried to get it out better this time. "I mean, besides the shit he put her through."

"What, I'm not allowed to be empathetic?" She snapped without looking at him.

Getting annoyed at how she kept biting his head off, he said "Don't insult my intelligence. I can tell there's something else." Her only response was to put her hands on the display window, resting her forehead against the cool glass. A sense of terrible déjà vu overcame him as he recalled a similar moment after the Croydon incident two years ago. "Well?" He tried more comfortingly. His wonderings were confirmed when she began to speak again.

"I didn't like her," Eames admitted quietly, words muffled due to the fact her back was still to him. "At the beginning, I didn't like her. I didn't understand how she could be so accepting of Joshua's death. When I lost my husband," Goren blinked, "I was going out of my mind to get to the bottom of it. I didn't realize she was just so... defeated. And... I don't know...." Alex sighed, and he knew the next revelation would be the most difficult for her to voice. "She was too flirty for my tastes. I judged her. I looked down on her because she was overly sexualized, and I don't know why... exactly. I didn't _try_ to understand her!" She finished with remorse.

"You're ashamed of your assumptions now you realize it wasn't her fault."

"Funnily enough, you getting in my head doesn't make me feel any better about this, Goren." Alex pointed out, though most of her venom had evaporated by now.

"Sorry," He said, hands held up in sincere apology and a small smile on his face. It grew once he saw it had coaxed one from her in the reflection. Crossing the hall, thankful for the practically deserted state of the squad room, Bobby gently turned her around to look at him. No evidence of tears, and the lines of her face were beginning to smooth. Bolstered by this, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Do you want to go, I can take care of the rest." Eames shook her head, though with a gratefulness on her features that reached her eyes.

"Nah, it shouldn't be much longer anyway. We have quite a case for them already."

"Thai delivers 'til two?"

"You read my mind."

**Did you guys catch the foreshadowing for **_**Vacancy**_** and **_**Amends**_**? I tried to make it subtle, and I wasn't sure if Goren knew about her marriage before this, so I left that ambiguous. Hope people enjoy my post-eps, and keep reviewing!**


	29. 5x1

Grow 5x1

_This is one more thing you've taken from me._

Goren rubbed his thumb over his brow, hiding his face in his large hand. The short but painful message from his archenemy continued to ring in his mind. She would always blame him for her sickness, and he knew this would drive her to forever torment him. Goren suspected some part of him enjoyed the promise.

From the corner of his eye he could see Eames at her desk hanging up her phone. She hesitated, looking towards him uncertainly, then sat in her seat. She instantly began typing, outright refusing to check up on the conference room that now housed her emotionally drained partner. Alex was giving him space. Bobby wasn't sure how he felt about that; on the one hand he was grateful he wouldn't have to conjure up any conversation, on the other he adored the delusion that she cared.

Goren sank into the nearest chair, a familiar wave of weariness overtaking him. His fingers pressed the phone's play button of their own accord. The voicemail repeated, Nicole's lilting voice filling the room with it's ice.

He didn't know how long he sat deathly still after the venom faded to silence. The next thing he became conscious of was the form of his concerned new co-worker Mike Logan approaching through the glass. Probably to question why the loss of one more fugitive had him so withdrawn. But he never got a chance.

"Logan! Get me some more coffee!" The man paused at Eames' barked order. He sent Goren another worried glance (which he patently ignored). Seeming to come to the decision the admittedly frightening woman knew what was best for her partner, he turned on his heel and strode obediently to the squad's coffee maker. Goren could see Alex look innocently up at the petite brunette with wavy hair, who had been observing the exchange with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

Despite the door, he could hear his partner say matter-of-factly, "I like making the newbies work for it. You can bring me a danish, thank you very much." The other new arrival smirked and simply walked away, recognizing the joking dismissal. Eames accidently met his eyes, and her hands instantly froze over the keyboard. She gave him a tight smile before bowing her head to return to her work, looking heavily embarrassed to be caught protecting him. Goren twisted one of the curls at the base of his neck contemplatively. Deciding there was nothing more he could glean from the call, he deleted the message with a lighter heart.


	30. 5x7

In the Wee Small Hours 5x6 and 5x7

When had this case become about him? Alex felt her throat close up and her heart rate double when her eyes alighted on the document. God no...

_Yes, it's a letter... I wrote to my superior officer 5 years ago_.

Why did he have to do this to them? This was ancient history! It'd been a bad day, she'd been bitter, she'd moved on. She'd learned.

_It's a request for a new partner, but I withdrew my request_.

The attorney wasn't letting her talk, wanted to limit her answers to only the sickening twisted words he liked. Things were tough enough for this man. This beautiful and kind man they were instructing her to stab in the back. Eames couldn't, she just couldn't. She'd break down on this stand. Didn't they see she was the only one who gave a damn about him! His own mother whom he agonized over merely spouted hateful criticism. Who else did he have but his partner?

And this bastard demanded she repeat the feelings she'd long since renounced to his face.

_'Detective Goren's erratic and anti-social behavior... his volatile and bizarre interrogation techniques... leave me to have serious doubts about his judgement and mental stability', I want to explain.._.

Her voice was shaking but she wasn't even allowed the chance to embarrass herself further. She could see, even from this distance, the broken, down-trodden look in his eyes. No accusation of betrayal on his haunted features, though she'd be the first to join his 'I-hate-Eames-the-trust-slayer' club. If only that was the kind of person he was. This overwhelming sadness was much worse.

_Detective Eames, please explain why you withdrew your request_.

She could kiss Carver. She really, _really_ could.

_I was used to working with more conventional detectives._

He wasn't a thing like any other cop she'd ever known. Which was fantastic seeing as she'd always hated the buddy boy type. He would never stop at an easy answer, never balk at a respected target and never give in to office politics. He would pursue the truth no matter where it lead. He reminded her what she'd believed in as a young naive fresh-from-academy rookie every time he smiled that grim yet satisfied smile after watching a criminal walk towards their deserving fate.

_Detective Goren's style is definitely unique and..._

And magnificent? With results unlike anything she'd imagine from any other detective? Could make her want to laugh or cry or hug him in exchange for exposing a bit more of his injured soul?

_...an acquired taste._

One she'd been unable to resist growing addicted to.

_Over time, I came to see that his approach was based on a deep understanding of human behavior._

He would make his way into their heads, find what made them tick, and use it like only he could. A mind too beaten to console himself in, so this genius took refuge in the psyches of killers and brought them crumbling.

But he was not cruel. Eames, who's range of sympathy was an 'I'm sorry for your loss' and a question in a softer tone of voice, would watch as this imposing figure gave way to a kind an understanding confidant when faced with a victim. They were never just a piece of the puzzle for him. They were people in need of kind words, words the master of psychology knew instinctively to say.

Cases were not just a matter of law for him, but an exercise in morality. The victims required compensation, those in danger needed protection, and those at fault needed no more and no less than what their deeds warranted. He would never be happy with an ending without acceptance.

_I came to appreciate him as an ethical person and an effective police officer_.

And she'd come to admire him as more than simply another partner. Goren was her friend. One she would fight for.

~*~

She was hurting and she was uncomfortable but Goren tried to look her right in the eye. He managed until she started to speak.

The trial had been an emotional roller coaster. He'd been worrying about his mother's condition all day, and had only been dragged from his dark musings when he'd registered the change in tone. Eames had been distressed and once again he was the cause.

He'd been both broken and bolstered by her trembling words in less than 5 minutes. Only her. Only Alex could manage that.

_I'm sorry, Bobby, I should have told you_.

Hearing her apologize made him feel responsible for her distress. Had she no idea how rare she was to stay despite all the shit he pulled on a regular basis. Everything she wrote in that request 5 years ago... at his worst moments Goren had thought them all. He was one of the most tossed around officers in the history of the CID and NYPD.

Somehow she'd come back. He'd never realized how close he was to losing her so soon into their partnership. Now he knew... he longed to know why. Why had the unbelievable package that was Eames decided to stay? And how long would he have to treasure this miracle?

_I am an acquired taste._

And he was unimaginably grateful she grew fond of it.

_I'm lucky you withdrew your letter_.

He walked past her, head down, wondering why they could only say the minimum to each other. He felt her eyes boring holes through his coat and knew she doubted his forgiveness.

But then, there wasn't anything to forgive.

~*~

The sky was a deepening shade of blue as the still-partners left the courthouse side by side, night drawing closer by the minute. They mutually decided to take a break in the nearby park, breathe in some refreshing New York City Air. They sat on a vacant bench, neither knowing quite how to regain their footing now the case was over. Eames, being by far the bolder when it came to social interactions, spoke first.

"Do you think your mom will be okay?" Goren stiffened a little. He was not used to discussing his mother with people, and it was due to this that he'd redirected her initial concern when the episode had first occurred. Noticing his tension, Alex rushed to back-peddle, as she'd done earlier. "Sorry, touchy subject, you don't have to answer that—"

"No, Eames, it's fine." Her clear apprehension made him even more contrite. Did she feel they were that far out on the rocks? Taking a deep breath he tried to release his anxiety with it. "Uh, Dr. Shimo has high hopes. Brief reactive psychosis due to stress usually passes in a few weeks or so. It's just a setback really, she should be... back to how she was in a month."

"That's good, that's really good to hear, Bobby." Once again he was pleasantly surprised to hear the sheer sincerity in her well-wishes. She lapsed into more awkward silence, and he decided to cut to the chase.

"If it's the trial that's still bothering you, I thought I showed you I wasn't mad." Alex twisted on the bench to better face him. She looked a little pained.

"But why not? I'd understand," She asked, a note of desperation in her voice, "I'd get it if you transferred or thought I wouldn't have your back anymore." Eames sighed, trying to reign herself in to better explain herself. "My dad's a cop, my brother's a fireman, my family's got service men left right and center."

"Loyalty is important to you." He inferred, by now it being second nature to piece apart motives and backgrounds. "You've been taught that an indiscretion of disloyalty is the worst kind of betrayal." Alex examined her gloved hands sitting in her lap.

"Gee, you're like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day." She observed morosely. Goren mumbled an apology which she waved away. She sighed and gave a humorless laugh. "I just don't see how you're okay with what I did, and my not telling you about it. God knows that conversation would go well: 'Hey Bobby, I tried to dump you 'cause I thought you were a lunatic! Isn't that the funniest thing? Anyway, where's the ketchup?'" He chuckled at her sarcasm.

"Yeah, I can see why you avoided filling me in." She smiled a little as she glanced over at him, then instantly refocused on fiddling with her gloved fingers. Becoming more serious, he said, "Eames, you didn't say anything up there I haven't heard before." When this didn't seem to help, he added, "Well, that's not entirely true. I don't know anyone else who would defend my methods like you did."

"They should, it's the truth." She grunted. He grinned softly at her profile.

"You and I both know the truth is nearly always the hardest to say." When this made her pause her anxious movements, Goren asked what he'd been wondering about ever since she'd stepped off the stand. "What made you retract your request in the first place?" Eames was silent for so long, he assumed he blew his chance and would never get an answer. But like always she caught him unawares.

"Remember the case where you apprehended the swindler Denis Dupont? His marks had hired a hitman to kill him but the thug ended up beating an innocent man instead. Dupont killed the injured man so no one would know he was really alive. Until you got to him and started pressing the right buttons." He nodded, thinking back to one of their first cases together. Alex turned to look him in the eye, and her honesty astounded him as she went on. "Your profiling abilities impressed me that day. After only a few brief phone calls you connected with him and used what you knew to bring him in." She hesitated. "I think that's when I first understood why you do what you do." She didn't need to elaborate. Goren recalled making the comparison between him and the con-artist. Their pasts had driven them forward, Dupont to defraud those he envied and Goren to outsmart those he saw hurt the innocent.

"I meant what I said about being lucky, Eames. You're... special." She snorted in disbelief. It was upsetting to think she thought so little of herself. It spurred him to convince her. "You're the longest partner I've had, and certainly the best."

"We're a little old to be playing the 'No-I-love-you-more' game." Alex snarked, looking away before she got a glimpse of his small blush. After a beat, she added, "But thanks, Bobby. It's nice to be wanted."

Goren smiled warmly at her, hoping that someday it would be possible for Eames to comprehend that he not only wanted her, but needed her as one needs their air.


	31. 5x13

Proud Flesh 5x13

"Why am I a cop if I detest shooting people so much?" Eames asked abruptly. She halted back resting on the door of her Rockaway one-story, forcing Goren to stop on the one below her.

After the shooting in front of the courthouse, the two detectives had been forced to return to the station. Alex was required to write up the report of the shooting, though there was no chance of an inquiry due to the media attention it'd received. There was also little hope of Jonas Slaughter being convicted now that his son had exonerated him as he lay dying in front of the entire press. They'd busied themselves filling paperwork and doing research but nothing of any real value.

Eames hadn't spoken much since shooting Chance. Goren offered to take her for a drink after leaving work, which she'd wordlessly agreed to. They'd sat in contemplative silence the entire night, Eames sipping slowly. This combined with her natural good tolerance for alcohol had left her with most of her senses intact. It had been purely concern as to her quietness that prompted Bobby to drive her home.

Which was why he was taken aback by her sudden and deep question. Not knowing how to ease her doubts, Goren leaned on the side of house and looked back at her sadly stoic face.

"You had to." He told her flatly. Every police officer understood the mixed emotions surrounding killing someone. It left you shaken to the core, uncertain and reevaluating yourself. There really wasn't anything anyone could say to remove that feeling. But everyone knew you had to try to ease their pain. "Chance was intending to murder her, to make himself look as guilty as possible. You saved Anna's life. You're a hero to her, and her daughter." Eames nodded vaguely at the mention of the little girl. Goren knew she always had a soft spot for children. He went on, deciding to be open with her. "You acted just in time. I hadn't seen it coming, no one was ready. My weapon was barely raised by the time he pulled his gun out." His voice carried a trace of fear which she no doubt heard. He'd been frightened when he realized he wouldn't be fast enough to save Anna, he'd barely registered the shots fired from his partner. Until the man fell and time moved again.

"I was worried about Anna," She confessed hoarsely. "She looked so vulnerable standing alone up there. I'd seen the younger Mr. Slaughter turn his head to watch her in the courtroom. I couldn't stop looking back and forth between them once we were outside. I drew my sidearm as soon as Chance came closer. I didn't know what he was planning, I was just apprehensive."

"Good, that was good, your instincts were right." They lapsed into a melancholy silence once more, neither really wanting him to leave but not knowing what to say.

"Would you like to come in?" Eames offered uncertainly. "We could open some beers, see what's on..."

"Nah, thanks." He declined politely. Though it physically pained him to see her disappointment, Goren knew it was better to stay safe. And close quarters alone with Alex Eames was the exact antonym of safe. Stepping backwards along the concrete path, he waved goodbye. "I'll see you in the morning. I'll bring you a cup of sugar, with a little coffee for added flavor." She laughed lightly at him, opening her front door without breaking eye contact.

"Why Bobby, you sure know how to charm a gal."

**Eames' distaste for shooting is fairly cannon. In one episode, the pair are talking to a homicidal doctor who is also a gun enthusiast. He says firing guns relaxes him, to which Alex replies 'Funny, shooting never has that effect on me' or something of that nature. And I had originally envisioned this taking place on a stoop, but I realized that Eames actually doesn't live in an apartment building. Oh well...**


	32. 5x17

Vacancy 5x17

"Alice? This is Detective Eames."

"Oh, hi detective."

Alex was standing in the empty interrogation room, cell phone to her ear, making the unavoidable call to Alice. She was apprehensive about it, seeing how the woman seemed to grate on her senses, but she knew this was a problem she would have to face head on.

"I just wanted you to know that we've arrested someone for Megan's murder. We won't be pursuing you any longer, and you're free to fly home." She informed her, inadvertently remaining cold and professional. Alice sighed out in relief.

"Great." She exclaimed shakily. "Who was it?" Eames hesitated, not wanting to frighten her but acknowledging this was something the girl needed to know.

"It was your cab driver," There was an audible gasp from the phone, "Tim Rainey. He was a method actor who went too far—"

"Oh my god! Was it— god— was it 'cause of me—"

"No, Alice—"

"Because I pushed them together, was it my fault?" She asked hysterically, taking shallower breaths.

"No, it's not your fault, it's his." Alex said sternly to the guilt-ridden girl. "He got too wrapped up in his character and in his memories and he just lashed out. If it wasn't Megan it was going to be somebody else, got it?" A strangled noise of understanding came through the line. Biting her lip to give herself courage, Eames plowed on with her secondary motive for the call. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted during that questioning."

"No, it's okay, really—"

"It's not okay, Alice. I pushed you too hard. I let my personal feelings and my prejudice interfere with my police work and for that, I'm sorry." The other woman was silent for the longest time, the only indication she hadn't hung up the occasional gasps and sniffles.

"Thank you." She whispered, gathering strength to go on. "And I'm sorry I screamed at you."

"Don't be."

"Well... I am. And could you tell Detective Goren I'm sorry too?" Eames straightened at her partner's name, her shoulder blades arching unconsciously.

"For what?"

"For flirting with him so much." She finished uncomfortably. "I usually try not to get between people."

Disliking where this seemed to be heading, Alex responded authoritatively, "You weren't getting between anyone, but you did make him jump out of his skin." She chuckled at the memory of his stutter. "He's too much of a gentleman to accept advances from a vic., so you sort of caught him off guard."

"I was wondering why he looked embarrassed." Alice confessed thoughtfully. "He didn't seem gay so I assumed you two were..." Eames cleared her throat, bothered by both the reminder of the girl's homophobia and the insinuation. They sunk back into uneasy silence until Eames asked the first thing that came to mind to break the ice.

"So when are you leaving?"

"I don't know, as soon as possible I guess. I don't think I can stay in the city any longer."

"Yeah..." She agreed sympathetically. Before the lull could intensify in awkwardness she said, "Well I hope you get home soon."

"Me too. Thanks for letting me know detective, and thanks for all your support. I know it wasn't easy for you." Alex made a noncommittal noise through her pursed lips. Taking that as her cue, Alice said "Well, I hope never to see you again." She laughed a little at the sentiment.

"Same here. Goodbye, and have a safe trip."

"Thank you." The click signaled the end to the conversation. Shaking her head a little, Eames exited the grey room to find Goren lurking to her right. She blinked in surprise.

"Um... How long have you been standing there?" He shifted nervously, following her as she began to walk back to the squad room.

"Not long. I heard you talking to Alice so I guarded the door."

"You sound like a bouncer." Alex snorted. She could see him smile in her periphery.

"It was a good thing you did, calling her."

"Well someone had to tell her she wouldn't be a fugitive." She reasoned, sitting down as they reached their desks. He rolled his eyes at her stubbornness as he took his seat across from her.

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Bobby," Eames said, leaning forward over the papers pilled there. "I needed to deal with it. My problem with... promiscuous drunks is dangerous, just like with you and Croydon." Goren bent his head at the reminder of that not so shining moment. "I have to inoculate myself to it. And now I know about it, I can try to watch myself."

"We can." He corrected, looking down and playing with his pen. Eames grinned.

"Of course. Who could forget my white knight."

**Yay! So sweet! Anyways, I added this author's note to tell you that I've added a post-ep for 115. I prefer the older episodes to the more recent, so I've been alternating watching season 6 and the older ones. Hope you all like it!**


	33. 5x21

On Fire 5x21

"Why is it the good ones that suffer?"

Goren pondered his partner's question carefully, both sitting on bar stools and nursing their drink of choice.

He thought of the victims he'd seen in all his years of service, many of whom had never done anything to warrant the horror perpetrated on them. He thought of their assailants, a significant percentage of whom had been driven them to commit their crimes by circumstance rather than some internal evil.

He thought about Captain Deakins, who would soon be leaving them. Who had been pushed out of his office by his old friend Frank Adair, two cops who couldn't be more different. Who had only ever cared about justice and was now resigning for the benefit of the department. Whose pride had depended on merely what his two most loyal detectives thought of him.

He thought about Eames, who he was beginning to see he had idealized. Who had not had a rosy life after all. Who had known her husband fewer years than she had had to learn how to live without him, and whom was tortured by that fact. Who saw the rest of her life as a countdown to obsolescence, rather than time to find happiness.

He thought of himself, who had gone through life in one hell or another. Whom at his darkest moments lying awake in the barracks would wish for that fateful and final shell. Who saw some tiny piece of himself in every victim, and in every perp. Who since he was 35 felt as if he were living on borrowed time, looking over his shoulder to see if the lunacy had finally caught up. Who resigned himself to living next to love, but never with it.

"Because we're the people that care enough to get hurt."

**Sorry about the unusually long wait, I got caught up in the Psych finale and I was introduced to Castle. Hmm... strange how I want forgiveness from strange people on computers (hopefully) miles away. **_**Creeeeeper**_**!**


	34. 6x1

Blind Spot 6x1

_It can be scary, y'know, when someone goes away, especially someone you love so much._

How long had it been since he said that to Enrique the underwear model? Back when the case had been grisly, but simple. And it was just Goren and Eames, the same team they'd always been, if a little grayer. And they were laughing about her instruction to keep an eye on him. And Bobby had his guilty little reunion with his old mentor Dec. And Eames was not a precious commodity and could be sent home alone at 3 am and Goren wouldn't worry.

Never again.

_I've been with your partner. All night. We're having a great time. Sebastian_

It had been immediate, his reaction. There had been less than a split second of numb emptiness and disbelief, after which he had rushed to the squad room with overwhelming purpose. To their credit no one, not even the new captain, had paused to consider him mad. They all knew him better than that.

Except Gage.

_Eames is dead. Accept._

Impossible. He refused. He refused by detaching himself, becoming Robert Goren, still the young CID officer jumping through hoops to please his new father figure, and throwing away Bobby, the man who had long since admitted to loving his partner, who had been made a better person by her, and would never give up.

But as soon as he saw the cell phone in his pocket it all snapped. He knew which he would always prefer.

_The old days are over Declan! They're over!_

How many times had he assaulted the old man he used to admire? It didn't seem to matter anymore.

He just felt so lost. He couldn't grasp the ideas that were slipping through his mind. He knew they were important, they were the only thing that could bring her back, but the struggle was hopeless.

Lucky Eames was involved, because only she could save the both of them.

_You look like hell._

It was so incredibly normal, and so incredibly out of place, and so incredibly _her_ that suddenly everything melted away. Goren smiled.

But it was a lie because she would pass out in 5, possibly 4 minutes. She had a bandage around her head and a heart monitor that picked up at the sound of the curtain.

And now she was a victim. Now she wasn't his strong independent partner. She was a frightened hostage who had been subjected to psychological trauma.

_There was a curtain... where he kept me. There was a young woman on the other side... screaming. He tortured her all night..._

She sounded broken. Terrified. Small.

_He blindfolded me. He kept me blindfolded but he took my gag off. He wanted me to scream so I didn't._

She was so brave. Made it sound so easy because it had been necessary. She had tackled it with a clear head and survived.

_That's what kept you alive._

Because it sure hadn't been him. He'd barely been able to remember the timeline.

_I'm sorry._

Sorry that someone so filled with beauty had almost been snuffed out. Sorry that the sound of metal curtain rings scraping together now sent her into a panic. Sorry that he couldn't save her. Sorry that it had been his influence, his mentor and his mentor's daughter, that had put her through this. Sorry he could no longer fully pull himself away, even if he wanted to. Sorry that she no longer had a choice, he would always need her around. Sorry that through all this, he still knew she could never learn just how much.

Later, after the case was closed and long after she had fallen into a drug induced sleep, he repeated the sentiment. Only this time the words were "I love you."

~*~

Eames had both been dreading and relishing her return home. It would be filled with little wonders and little nightmares. For instance, she couldn't wait to sit in her living room, pull her feet up on the easy chair and wrap herself in a blanket. But standing in the spot where Jo knocked her out... Or how she would be forced to face the empty birdcage hanging morosely without Polly. And then there was the bathroom. And Alex longed for a shower or a bath to wash the grime and memories away... but she imagined she'd be physically sick at the sound of the—

Alex shook her head as she pulled into Beachcrest. Trying to banish the haunting recollections and fantasies, she stepped out of the car and made a swift approach to her house. It helped that it was the middle of the day she'd been released. Had it been dark, she doubted she'd make it past the front door. To her credit, Eames only hesitated for a few seconds before crossing the threshold.

Whatever she was expecting... this wasn't it.

Her apartment was tidy. Considering SWAT had barged in that was impressive. There was a faint smell of bleach, probably someone cleaning up whatever blood she'd shed during the initial attack. Looking around, she found several thoughtful changes. Polly's cage and stand had been removed. There was a note on the neatly folded blanket which she ignored for the time being. Curious, and harboring a secret suspicion, Eames boldly investigated the bathroom. Sure enough, the shower curtain had been taken down.

Wearing a now much brighter demeanor, she quickly set her bath to fill and raced back to the living room. Picking up the scrap of paper, Alex quickly scanned the words.

_Tried to make it feel more like home. If it's too much, you can stay with me._

_Don't feel bad about calling if you need it. ~Goren_

Alex gave her empty apartment a goofy grin. She really did have a remarkable mind-reading partner.

She'd get through this, because she could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and there was a lanky, ruffled, and unmistakable silhouette waiting for her.

**Okay, I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I really love some of the lines in this one. Especially the I Love You line! There isn't much plot, but I feel I accurately captured their psychopathy here (bit dramatic, but hey), while doing so very poetically I might add. Feel free to puff my obviously deflated ego.**

**...seriously. Just click the damn button.**


	35. 6x3

Siren Call 6x3

_Rage, helplessness... I mean I do know, 'cause my mother, she has lymphoma. The doctors, they talk about her life in months. And I think, you know, 'I'm smart, I'm resourceful'... but that, that's a lot..._

The most honest emotion Eames had heard from her partner in years... and it was to a suspect. A murderer. A dead murderer, she revised as they drove away in silence from the tragic scene.

_Your mom. That was true wasn't it._

The hardest part about asking was that it wasn't a question. She could tell, due to some connection she was still clinging to, that he was being open about this. It hurt, learning second hand to 'Ray'. And yet it wasn't an accusation, because how could she possibly harass him upon hearing _that_ news?

Was there a time when Goren might have come to her directly? She wasn't sure which answer was worse.

_She's a fighter._

A brief flare of resentment rose within her, and Alex's hands tightened their now vice-like grip on the wheel. What kind of answer was that anyway? That was unrepentantly blowing her off! How long had she been sick? How much longer did she really have? 6 months? 3? For god's sake! Eames' jaw clenched and she had to resist the urge to smack the horn. What was his mother's _name_? What would she write on the bouquet for the funeral!

The image of Ray's corpse brought her somewhat selfish thoughts under control. Now was not the time to be angry with him. And definitely not when he was sitting in stony silence merely a few feet away. Goren took every loss hard, especially those deaths he felt were preventable. And he sure had tried.

_Okay, it was on me. It wasn't on her, let my partner go._

It should have bothered her, the way he'd wanted so badly to protect her. She was a fully capable cop who would have liked to be able to help. But Eames had faith in his remarkable powers of persuasion, and if he wanted her out he had a damn good reason.

_You gotta let my partner go and look after your daughter._

It was Emily that had inevitably brought her around. Hearing the little girl's cries through the door had broken her resolve to kick and scream and rage. Despite the situation, they each had to do their jobs, and Goren had been right to send her to the girl's aid. Having Emily witness the confrontation wouldn't help anything. They'd just have another dying family member on their hands.

_You gotta put the gun on me, and let my partner go look after your daughter._

But did he need to be so self-sacrificing?

Standing on the other side of that door, two inches of plywood between them but it felt like miles, Eames had listened to the entire nerve-wracking conversation. Emily'd done as she instructed (a refreshing change) and had hid in the bedroom with her mother, both frightened and uncertain. Breath had left her lungs when she heard the command to call his mother to say goodbye.

Giving her head a barely noticeable shake, Eames refocused on the immediate. The suspect had committed suicide. And although she wished it could have gone another way, she knew he'd done it for the right reasons. Despite the pain and suffering he'd caused his wife and Emily, he'd wanted to give them the full pension. No amount of money could make up for the loss, Alex knew from experience, but he'd died with some modicum of honor in her book.

Goren on the other hand, lived in the world of 'should have's. He strove for justice, not just punishment. Any death was unacceptable.

_I'll file the paperwork. Take a drive upstate, visit your mom._

It was both the least she could do, and the most he'd let her do for him.

Though Alex knew she would never be a significant part of his life, she felt a burning ache for his closeness. How absurd that the case had started with unwanted concern for her well-being, and ended with the opposite? How much was she worth to him now?

_You alright?_

He hadn't even bothered to answer.

**Okay, I'm posting this to tell you that I'll be gone for the rest of the week. I'm going to San Francisco for spring break to visit a friend. So this is it for a while, probably saturday.**


	36. 6x6

Masquerade 6x6

Alex threw suspicious glances to the rearview mirror of her exquisite police issue vehicle. Goren had so graciously offered to sit with Beth in the back, as she was distraught to learn that the man with whom she'd confided in and leaned on for years was actually the one who murdered her little angel.

_You took everything._

Eames knew she really shouldn't be feeling this way about the grieving mother. She was just seeking support, and Bobby was remarkably empathetic and caring. So what if Beth didn't like her a bit. She was a cop, she was immune to any negative reaction. The real problem was... she was flirting up a storm with her partner. The partner she'd admitted (though only in her mind) to being attracted to about 2 years ago.

Resentment swelled as she saw Beth rest her hand on his thigh. Forward much?

Thankfully Goren shifted a little so her touch fell across his knee, before Eames had an aneurism. If Beth noticed his discomfort, she made no effort to backtrack.

"He... He was all I had left... And he was... she..." She murmured, goo-goo eyes still full strength, and using that extremely soft voice that made men have to lean in to hear. Nasty little trick. Goren put his arm on her shoulder gently, Beth leaning into the contact and Eames watching cautiously.

"You have Jamie now... You both have each other." Beth nodded, though Alex noted her slight disappointment. Probably because she'd wanted Goren, A.K.A. White Knight, to offer his undying loyalty to her or some such nonsense. Eames nearly scoffed, until she realized she'd been so absorbed in their interactions that she hadn't noticed the car was weaving into the other lane. Thankfully she swiftly corrected it before anyone could join them in this near deserted street. Or worse, Bobby spotted her distraction.

Even better, they were almost to her house! Eames pulled into her driveway with a grateful smile on her face. Conversely, Beth's expression turned sour for a moment, before turning up the charm and facing Bobby with helpless pleading eyes.

"You'll visit me, right? I just don't think I can handle being alone right now. It's all just too much." Alex resisted making fake gagging sounds. Goren's mouth worked silently for a moment before he could get any words out.

"Well, uh, my free time is limited with, uh, work and—and all." He stuttered, retreating slightly from her imposing advances. Latching onto his earlier idea he added, "Though I'm sure Jamie'll need someone right about now. You should take care of him for a while." If she noticed his not so subtle substitution she didn't mention it.

"But I will see you again, won't I?"

"Uh..." He hedged. "Maybe. If I can." Beaming at him, Beth finally opened the car door, which Goren did gladly as well. Eames watched through the window as the woman stepped around the car, planted a big kiss on her partner's cheek, and sauntered away to her home. Goren looked temporarily paralyzed, and had the department been any more stingy on their vehicle budget, you could be certain the steering wheel would have snapped under the immense power of Eames' grip. Carefully walking back to the car, Goren slid into the passenger seat and buried himself in his binder. Clearly he found the situation awkward. Pulling out and turning onto the correct street back to One PP, Eames spoke.

"Are you planning to see her again?" It was amazing how well the question came out. Not a trace of jealousy or rage or defeat anywhere. Goren began scribbling notes franticly to escape the increasing tension. Which was odd as they'd just closed their only case. What was there left to annotate?

"She's a narcissus who craves attention," He stated flatly, still not looking up.

"So?" Eames said, though hating every syllable. "She likes you. What more is there?"

"What do you take me for?" He asked, looking up suddenly, mildly indignant.

_Oh Bobby, I'd take you for box wine and animal planet_, she thought to herself, almost eliciting a moan. It was lucky he continued, or else Eames was pretty sure she'd get lost in her fantasy and unable to drive.

"She's got borderline personality disorder, and I will not enable her. That wouldn't be healthy for either of us." There was a stretch of silence.

"What are you looking for then?" She asked, her directness and boldness surprising the both of them. Goren gazed at her for a moment, with a strange mien Alex doubted she'd ever decrypt.

"Someone who knows me." He answered simply, still with that unsolvable expression.

Eames couldn't help the memories swarming to mind. She silently contemplated how many times in their partnership he'd pushed her away. _'My feelings don't have any bearing on our cases'... 'Just... Let's just... sit'... 'Well she's very... empathetic'... 'You're upset that I got the case right?'... 'This is my mom, kay'... 'That's what kept you alive'... ''She's a fighter'..._

She shook her head, banishing her thoughts and reburying her repressed anger and longing for the time being. Sometimes you just have to put the Rubik's cube down and step away.

"Well, good luck with that Bobby. Good luck."

**Sorry for my sort of hiatus, I've been feeling rather depressed lately and surprisingly L&O is a teensy bit too dark for my state of mind. But hopefully you can expect intermittent updates from me here.**


	37. 6x8

The War at Home 6x8

Goren sat with his head staring blankly at the ceiling. It was only half past 1 in the morning that he got to enjoy this blissful luxury. He finally was in his own apartment, resting on his own couch, listening to his own self-abasing thoughts, rather than his mother's.

_Save it. I'm leaving. You wanna fire me, fire me... I don't care..._

He groaned, and let his face fall into his awaiting hands. He was in for it, from Eames more than Ross. The new captain was still trying to settle himself firmly into his new slot, which made him hesitate. Especially where feelings were involved. And so, his insolence may earn him... what? An admonishment? A slap on the wrist? Most likely a short leave of absence to cool off and attempt at least to get his wayward remnant of a life under control.

But Eames? She'd draw blood.

His mind skipped to that fateful confrontation in front of the elevators.

He had just been stressed with his mother chemo appointment on the holiday on top of the murder. No one was cooperating in this case, and they were catering to the whim of this... man... who thought he deserved his respect when Goren didn't feel up to dealing with corporate politics anymore. So he'd been out of line. He'd trashed his desk. He was fed up with it all.

Even with her. With his fucked up feelings and this... self-imposed distance. He didn't want to listen to her tirade. Or anyone's understanding.

_What the hell was that Bobby!? You want to throw it all away!? Just, I know—_

_Back off._

Goren knew he'd messed up. Sure he'd tried to move past it like nothing had happened, but her cold shoulder had cut that plan in two. 'Course, he hadn't expected her — well, there wasn't much else to call it — her defiance in the interrogation room. It hadn't angered him as much as made him feel hopeless. Hopeless in that there wasn't any going back.

A buzz rang, filling the apartment with sound and jarring him from his brooding. Goren moaned. Someone wanted to get in the downstairs door. He didn't bother to answer it; it was probably just one of the neighbors too drunk to find their keys, or some punk ringing the whole building on a dare. Routine New York stuff, not worth the trouble. The tone warbled again, but the detective ignored it once again. Instead, he got up and went to open a beer. Collapsing on the sofa once more, he swigged until a comforting haze overtook his unsettled mind. The shouts of some downstairs neighbors caught his attention, but it didn't really register until one familiar voice drifted up.

"Sorry! Wrong floor! As you were!" Springing to his feet and sprinting to the window, he stuck his head outside. Looking down, sure enough, Eames stood yelling up at his peeved neighbors, fistful of pebbles in hand. She took notice of him, dropping her amo and putting her hand on her hip.

"Eames?" He called down bewilderedly. She waved sarcastically before hollering in exasperation.

"Let me up idiot! Before I get carted off for causing a public disturbance!" Obligingly, she stepped over to the front door, and yet another buzz split the air. Rushing to the noise, still shaking his head at her extreme behavior, Goren pressed the button with new vigor. Unlocking the door, he strode to the elevator to wait for her. It took agonizingly long. When she got out, Alex took no time in beginning her verbal assault.

"Why do you have to live so high up? I mean, I played softball and I still could only reach the sixth floor!" She demanded, breezing past him and stepping into his unlocked apartment. It took Goren a minute of watching her retreating back to snap out of it and follow. She was already lifting his nearly empty beer and finishing it. Eames straightened up, and fixed him with a cold glare, sweeping him up and down with her eyes. Goren crossed his arms defensively and stared her down.

"Why did you barge into my apartment at," He checked the clock, "2 AM?" Eames mirrored his stance.

"Well, it would have been earlier if you hadn't come home so late." She countered irritably. He blinked.

"You mean you staked me out?" She shifted, the vexation being overcome by discomfort.

"You didn't answer my calls, and when I parked I saw your lights were out. Which reminds me." Alex walked to the table, flipping open his cell and deleting the messages. He barely had a chance to take in the invasion of his privacy, too enthralled by her in this moment of abnormality. When she turned back to him she looked more relieved. "There. Now I can say them in person." She stepped closer to him, spreading her arms wide. "Give me a hug." Bobby gaped at her.

"W-what?" He managed to sputter, secretly fearing for her sanity. Putting aside for a moment the fact they _don't_ _touch_, Goren was sure she'd be furious with him still. Hell, hadn't she been furious a couple minutes ago? Eames rolled her eyes at his dismay, the rarely readable brown flashing in annoyance when they landed on him once more.

"I had a lot of time to mull it over, and I think this is the only way. Now hug me dammit!"

Hesitantly, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her much smaller frame, attempting fruitlessly to keep some space between them and never letting himself touch the small of her back. Eames was much... bolder. Her arms lay snug above his hips, ear resting lightly over his heart. Goren indulged himself in letting his chin fall on the top of her head. God it felt wonderful. They were a perfect fit. This was why he'd stayed away; this was why he never got too close.

"See Bobby? I'm not your enemy."

* * *

Alex took a deep breath, breathing in that beautiful musky scent. She was enveloped in it, in him. It was safety and warmth and comfort and it felt _good_. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear. She decided that anytime she couldn't hear that reassuring throb, he was too far away. How long had she been wanting this, to be held in his long, strong arms? Years? Of course, he was being far too tense, and his hand brushing her ass (or her hip, or her back for that matter!) was too much to expect, but she'd take it nonetheless.

"I know." Goren's voice broke the serene silence, and startled Eames back into her senses. She withdrew, a little flustered yet oddly bereft. Attempting to bring some of her earlier fight back to cover how a simple hug could affect her so, Alex pursed her lips, the lines of her face familiar with the frown from years of hardship. Her arms crossed automatically, though this was more a reaction to the vulnerability suddenly overtaking her. The apparent change in mood seemed to startle him, and Bobby scratched the base of his neck, looking down to avoid her ire.

"But, if you ever do anything that stupid ever again, I swear to everything I believe in, I will kick your ass from here to judgement day." Deep breath. "I get..." He glanced up in warning, and Alex faltered but determinedly carried on. "I get that you are going through something. Don't think I don't care, 'cause I do. But that does not give you a free pass to..." She sighed in what felt like defeat. "... to throw it all away."

"I do not," He asserted forcefully, rubbing his neck to calm himself down. When he finished the thought his voice was much softer. "Want to throw it all away."

"Telling Ross— telling _me_— you didn't care, what do you call that then Bobby?" She questioned skeptically. He averted his eyes once more, giving Eames her answer.

Marching towards the door, she only paused when a whisper of what could have been "Don't..." tiptoed it's way to her ears. Turning, she could see Goren still facing where she had stood moments before, refusing to follow her path. Alex let out a sad puff of air, mourning the unavoidable paradox of her continued love for this terrible, wonderful man.

"I want us to be okay. Take however long you need. No matter what, I am not going to sit back and let you destroy yourself, and you do not want to take me on right now. Because _I_... I watch my partner's back."

**Call me crazy, but I got the idea for the hug from a Pon and Zi comic. Hope it doesn't seem too weird. Ugh, stupid FF formating, they deleted all my asterisks. I'll try to fix them all, but no promises.**


	38. 6x13

Albatross 6x13

Maureen Pagolis, Eames' idol, an icon for the women of New York, was about to be arrested. There would be no coming back from that. Goren watched his partner's back, literally, as she was still staring up the stairs where the politician had retreated to get dressed. His eyes swept up and down over her impassive figure.

_Are we alright?_

_I hope so._

His guess was that she felt betrayed. She'd stood up for Mrs. Pagolis, argued with him over his decision to put her career in jeopardy, and it had all been for a lie. Was she remorseful over her entirely honest response at the bar? Did she feel lost or hopeless now that one of her guiding forces had been struck down before her? Was he witnessing walls crumbling, or being hasitily rebuilt?

Goren shook his head with the realization that as he sat back and analyzed her, Eames was left alone with whatever undoubtedly negative emotions she was suffering with no support. Analyzing her would turn her into just another case, one to be discarded when things went south. No, not Eames.

He managed to step to her side, raising his arm and about to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, until Maureen returned to view. She'd dressed in simple black, with the completely original addition of overly large sunglasses. Eames crossed to the foot of the stairs, countenance somewhat desperate, while Bobby's hand fell to his side forlornly.

"Are you sure there isn't anything we can charge your husband with? I mean, you listened to him for so long, you must have evidence..." She trailed off at the melancholy air of the woman's features.

"Nothing I want my sons to hear about." Pagolis answered, barely above a whisper. He could hear his partner's deep shuddering breath, before she gave a curt nod.

And, in what was completely out of character for her, Eames hesitated. And, in an act of kindness that was so like him, Goren strode past her. Turning Mrs Pagolis around, he cuffed her hands behind her back.

"Maureen Pagolis, you are under arrest for criminally negligent homicide, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..." Looking to Eames for confirmation, their eyes met. She attempted a grateful smile, but all he got was a grimace of pain. Bobby nodded reassuringly, and led the candidate toward the front door. Alex would catch up later.

No one deserved to take the perp walk with their idol.


	39. 6x15

Brother's Keeper 6x15

"Eames!" Damn, she had hoped to make a decent exit. She was only halfway down the corridor when Rodgers' voice reached her, stopping the detective in her tracks. Alex opened her mouth to tell Goren not to wait, but her partner was still moving, walking away without looking back. Lovely. With a resigned sigh, she turned around and headed back to the autopsy room.

Pursing her lips, swaying her arms and looking at the floor (so as to avoid glancing at the unidentified corpse in the room) she answered, "Yeah?" Elizabeth Rodgers was fixing her with a scrutinizing stare so potent Alex could feel it boring holes into her head.

"The brother." Eames' nervous fidgeting increased, her fingers tapping on the supply counter. "Should I ask?" The compassionate yet often blunt doctor finished in an unusually soft voice. Alex moved to stand over the face of the homeless man on the medical examiner's table. Her eyes glazed as thoughts overtook her.

The face was no longer that of a stranger, but of Frank Goren. She had not known much about him, most of the time even forgetting Bobby had a brother for all he mentioned him. Now that she'd met him (if briefly), some of the innocuous comments over the years began to make sense. Drugs, what Goren had spent four years in Narcotics trying to fight, had taken a hold of his brother years ago. Probably had again if the the way he'd sold Bobby's coat was anything to go by. Eames felt a sudden pang of sympathy for her partner at the memory. Sitting in the car, watching him press money into Frank's freezing hands, remove his overcoat and wrap it around his shivering shoulders, slip the card in it's pocket and walk away. It had touched her, reminding Alex once again how beautiful Robert Goren really was, like his kindness was shinning through his gruff exterior.

And now it was her Goren, the Goren that could be, lying beneath her contemplative gaze.

"No." She said, answer brisk and no-nonsense, "It's not a happy story."

* * *

Goren stepped out into the bullpen, striding to desk and avoiding eye contact as ghosts followed his every movement. Voices of his family filled his ears as a bleak, detached sort of relief still hung over him. Deflecting the concerned study of his new captain with a quick shake of his head, he sank into his chair, slender fingers scrubbing at his scalp in agitation.

It hadn't been him, it hadn't been Frank. He should be rejoicing. But... damn it! He'd promised himself he wouldn't go down this road again. Going out of his mind with worry wouldn't change anything. He knew nothing could help Frank until he wanted to get clean. If his brother was going to slowly kill himself... all Bobby could do was wait and hope he'd wise up.

Looking up, he saw Eames slide gracefully into her seat as well, opening her laptop and throwing him a nonchalant yet tight smile.

_That woman... Is that your wife?_

Frank's words, unbidden, resurfaced, constricting his chest. Why couldn't he have left well enough alone?

_That's uh... that's my partner._

_So where's the ring?_

_Nah, It's not that kinda partner..._

Ah, the bitter truth.

**It was hard to take down that last bit of dialogue, but that's what I guessed at. Could be entirely wrong.**


	40. 6x18

Silencer 6x18

_They wanna be all wrapped up and safe inside, not shut out._

It had been nice, having someone around who liked to share his opinions. A 'decent guy'. Someone who was genuinely interested in her thoughts and her feelings. Who treated her like an equal. Who let her in.

Who called her by her first name (she may have always preferred Alex, but Alexandra was light years ahead of Eames). Who was pretty and sweet and fun to talk to. Who was interested in her as more than just a cop, a friend, a partner.

So they got coffee.

"So, uh..." Goren began unsurely, glancing up from his binder at his partner who had just arrived back from her lunch break, "How was your date with Peter?" Eames shot him an annoyed glare as she opened a file.

"It wasn't a date, we just went to the cafeteria." She pointed out. Trying to act like his interest was nothing more than the usual office gossip probing, he waved his arm to bat away the deflection.

"Well, yeah, but... how was it?" Continuing to read the case file on her desk, she shrugged.

"I dunno, it was nice enough." Giving up his pretense entirely, Bobby leaned forward, arms on his desk, scrutinizing her. Alex shifted a little under his intense gaze but still refused to look up.

Resisting the urge to crane his neck down to meet her eyes, he went on, "He likes you. Think you'll see him again?" Forcefully shutting the folder, Eames stared him down with a glint of fire in her eyes.

"Why the sudden prying into my life, Goren? I know you disagreed with him, and it killed you to be dependent on someone for once, but Peter's a good guy. So you can quit the overprotective brother act, got it?" Lowering his eyes with veiled lids, he nodded in defeat. So, she did like him, at least enough to defend him. And she was right, Peter was a good man. He was highly ethical, overcame hardship, had an even disposition, didn't stick his foot in his mouth, was young and handsome...

"But no, to answer your question, I don't think it'll go anywhere." Bobby couldn't stop his head from shooting up in surprise. Eames was looking at him, eyes a study of contradictions. She looked... soft? But steely? "I..." She paused, glancing down and to the right as she seemed to formulate what to say. "I want something... different." Finally meeting his gaze once more, Goren got the feeling that her words had some meaning he was supposed to understand. But for the life of him he couldn't figure out what. So he just nodded and returned to his work, noting the unavoidable flash of disappointment that flitted over her expression.

Maybe he'd find out more the next time.


	41. 6x21

Endgame 6x21

It was not visited by the department. No Deakins, no Ross, no Logan, no Barek, no Wheeler. No buddies like Lewis or any of his other 'friends'. Not even Frank who dropped off the radar as soon as he made the call. Only one lone figure stood by the grave, the minister reading the rights long since departed. He had worked hard to keep the event secret, and the fact he'd succeeded gave him some modicum of comfort.

It was not raining, merely overcast. The air was crisp and a cool breeze seemed to turn his unheeded tears to ice. Her headstone was near an Oak, not some sentimental tree like a Weeping Willow. That would have been too cruel.

And Robert Goren was not tormented by memories of his mother, nor his brother, nor the case (if you could call this last nightmare a case). Rather, his mind filled with echoing silence, like wind reverberating down a long tunnel. A beautiful, blessed void. His mothers last gift to her son, who's birth she had always despised.

Bobby could only feel. The silent tears cutting viciously down his cheeks, the shaking of his shoulders with tiny suppressed whimpers, the orchid (an unusual little flower his mother had always adored) clutched too tightly in his fist that the stem oozed a bit onto his fingers.

And suddenly the sensation of soft skin inserting itself into his free hand, small delicate fingers curling around his large calloused ones. The friction of the contact seeming to ignite his entire nervous system. He gasped at the unexpected and dearly missed connection, the surprise breaking his concentration and allowing his stuttering sobs to escape.

They stood there a while, neither speaking and neither acknowledging Goren's weeping. When he had finally had enough, Bobby bent down, sure to keep her hand clutched as if it were a life preserver, and laid the flower at his feet in front of the grave. Straightening, he cleared his throat, taking out his handkerchief and wiping at his face. Her tiny palm tugged at his arm, and he obligingly followed it's guiding presence. Once they reached her car, they released each other and the loss prompted Goren to finally speak up.

"Eames?" He croaked, the tears having ripped his throat to shreds as well.

"You can call me Alex, Bobby." She interrupted. "I'm here as your friend."

"What are you doing here?" He asked, refusing to give into the temptation of such intimacy. Eames huffed in frustration.

"It took a lot of work, but I'm a skilled detective. What, you thought I wouldn't be able to figure it out?" _No, I thought you wouldn't want to_, he thought with a sniffle.

"You didn't answer my question." He said instead. Looking up at him with those beautifully sad eyes, her face was the perfect image of sympathy.

"You need someone, I thought I would do." Alex paused, struggling with the words apparently. Goren broke in before she could try and make him feel better; he wasn't in the mood.

"I wish there'd been more time," He said mournfully, and she immediately halted to listen. "She would've loved you, she wanted to meet you." Remembering her lack of a reaction when he'd first mentioned it (oh the pain of listening to his mother buy into Frank's misconception), Bobby added, "Y'know, if you'd wanted to."

"I would've." She assured him quietly. "If it hadn't been for Brady..."

Damn. Brady. Mark Ford Brady, whose many names would now haunt him forever. The uncertainty that had tainted his mother's view of him would shadow him through all his days. No. Now was not the time to dwell on his... possible parentage. Eames. Focus on her. She's important, monumental.

"Yeah," Goren managed to force out. Not caring about consequences or implications, he wrapped one of his arms around her petite shoulders, drawing her into his side. She must've realized how much he needed the touch because Alex did not pull away. Rather, she moulded against him, her sweet scent filling his nostrils. They leaned back against the black van, looking out over the surprisingly peaceful cemetary. Bobby sighed, relishing the brief and normally unattainable proximity.

"Ross said to take as much time as you need." She informed him quietly, not wanting to break the serene mood. He nodded his understanding. "I guess I'll be seeing you in a little while then."

"I dunno, you could always... visit?" He offered uncertainly. As much as he was not well disposed to dealing with people at the moment, Goren couldn't help craving her company. He could hear the grateful smile in her voice.

"Movie night Saturday? I pick the flick, you bring the food?" He nodded. So blissfully happy at one of the most counterintuitive times, when he should be lost at sea.

But then again, he did have his lifeline.


	42. 7x1

Amends 7x1

_After a loss, people, they screw up._

Goren ran to catch up with her on the dark dismal downtown sidewalk. She was walking quickly, with a fierce determination that both disheartened him and drove him forward. Finally catching up with her, he reached out and took hold of her arm.

_You're going through Joe's case file?_

_Eames—_

_What d'you think you'll find there, Bobby?_

"Let go of me!" She cried, her voice wavering in her distress. It broke his heart, or what was left of it. Eames tried to yank herself free but he held firm. He would not let her get away from him again.

"No. Alex—"

"Don't call me that, you don't get to call me that anymore! You lost that right when you went behind my back! I only let you get away with it in front of Rogers, but try it again and I'll break your fucking arm, you bastard!"

_Well, there was a lit cigarette at your husband's crime scene, a menthol._

_I know that! Minaya testified it belonged to Delgado._

_Well, Delgado said that he didn't smoke._

"Eames then," He went on, trying desperately to mask how her words cut into his gut like a knife. "You have to calm down."

"Never tell a woman to calm down! It's not like it helps!" She retorted, once again attempting to loosen his grip.

"Are you okay?"

"Ha!" Eames barked derisively, "Now you give a damn about my feelings!"

"Why are you acting like this?" He pleaded. "We caught the guy, we solved both cases. Joe finally has justice."

_Well, CSU just couldn't get enough DNA off of it to prove that Delgado was lying._

_That's nine years ago, you know that today they only need a trace of DNA._

"Don't you dare talk to me about Joe!" Tears were now falling from her eyes, making strands of her hair cling to those flushed yet still perfect cheeks. "He was a beautiful man, a wonderful husband, and I loved him!" Goren swallowed painfully, his fingers relinquishing their vice-like hold though she no longer fought to run. "And I know I should be... but he's still gone. And you still hurt me. And I love... and I can't..."

_Kevin Quinn IDed him as running from the scene gun in hand._

_Witnesses make mistakes and if it's Delgado's DNA then it will confirm his guilt._

_But you don't think it will. Is that it?_

"I'm sorry. Eames, believe me, I am so sorry..."

_This isn't another one of your puzzles!_

"It doesn't matter, Bobby. It doesn't change the fact that the moment I walked into that room everything just came rushing back, and it was all your fault."

_You know that we have to do this, we've got to do it! If it's not delgado's DNA it means he wasn't there, and someone else killed Joe! And got away with it!_

"If there had been another way, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But I had to get to the bottom of it. Think about it—"

"No!" Eames yelled suddenly, "I'm tired of thinking! I'm tired of being responsible and smart! I want to go out, get drunk, and wake up in someone else's bed!" Goren felt his heart stutter at her words. Dropping his hand, he took a step back, allowing her space despite the pain she'd caused. She was still looking up at him with red eyes, breathing heavily and shaking her head.

"If that's what you want." He replied solemnly. She let out a shaky chuckle.

"Of course that's not what I want." She said wearily. "But it's all I've got." Spinning on her heel, Alex continued her path down the street, probably to some bar where she'd be taken home for a quick fuck.

Watching her go with ice settling over his soul, he shouted to her, "Hey, be careful!"

"I won't!" She hollered without looking back.

"Call if you need me!" He tried again.

"Not gonna!" Sighing, Goren turned around, with only the company of his thoughts on his walk home.

She'd said it herself, he'd hurt her. How deep he couldn't be sure. But things were rough. Things had been rough ever since his mother died. Or was it since the Dockerty case last Thanksgiving? Or when she'd been captured? The only thing he could be certain of was things would only get worse.

No matter what he did, he would never be able to have that again. To have her the way he wanted.

_You want me to come back there and find the box? I'll find it, I'll tear this place apart, 'kay, cause I'm the wackjob! Understand?_

He would always be the eccentric workaholic with a dead schizophrenic mother and possibly a rapist and murderer for a father. He would always be the man who put crime first. He would always stumble over his words and would never be able to fix things easily between them. He would always hurt her.

_He was a good cop._

That's what she deserved. Not a wackjob.


End file.
